Rises the Warrior
by dl-shipper34
Summary: Many have failed to conquer Redwall Abbey. Kren and Mortaza, leaders of the Hooded Clan, are determined to become the first...unless a young ottermaid, touched by the paw of destiny, can rise up and fight back. Sequel to "Rising From the Ashes."
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story is dedicated to the author of the Redwall series, Brian Jacques, who tragically passed away on February 5th. He wrote a magnificent series that I will always cherish and a world in which I can escape to.

Many thanks to those who have requested for a sequel to my story, Rising From the Ashes. As I had a wonderful time writing it, I wanted to honour your requests and have thus written a sequel. It is not essential to read RFtA in order to understand this story, but it is encouraged. This sequel, titled Rises the Warrior, will be more Redwall-focused, and centred mostly around Culy.

**Please note that this story is still being written. Depending on how RL goes and how often I can work on the chapters, it will be updated most likely every two weeks or so. Saying that, please keep in mind that it is subject to change. I thank you for your patience and understanding on this matter.**

Thanks to Taryn for contributing some ideas to this story and poking me with a virtual encouragement stick via Facebook. **  
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As a refresher, listed below are the Redwall names and their corresponding CSI:NY characters. Once again these are all my creations (as are the other characters in this story), so please do not use without first asking.

Semser - Messer  
>Emroon - Monroe<br>Dasmaros - Adam Ross  
>Torlay - Taylor<br>Askhew - Hawkes  
>Alddon - Donald<br>Ganlel - Angell  
>Culy - Lucy<br>Mahdis Camberk - Sid Hammerback  
>Synno - Sonny<br>Livandle - Danville  
>Treyl - Tyler<br>Lilee - Ellie

All mistakes are mine, and reviews are always greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

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><p><span>Rises the Warrior - Chapter 1 (Prologue)<span>

Mossflower was under siege, the roots of its various tree species nearly being ripped from the earth due to the wind that howled like a wounded animal and viciously tore apart small plants and shrubbery. Not a single star could be seen in the night sky, as the bruised underbellies of immense clouds hid them from view. Everything was blanketed in snow, and more continued to fall from the heavens. Those who were unfortunate enough to be caught in the blizzard would have found themselves virtually blind in the maelstrom of snowflakes and blistering wind. There was no end in sight; it was as if the clouds had unleashed their fury upon the land.

Inside Redwall Abbey, the inhabitants were cozy and warm. They had taken shelter in Cavern Hole, a large area beneath Great Hall that served as the Abbey's eating area. It also doubled as a meeting room in times of trouble. Candles resting in sconces bolted to the walls lit up the area as creatures, both young and old, took their respective seats at the many chairs and tables. At the front of the column, perched comfortable in a large ornate chair, was an adult female otter. She was a beautiful creature, with sterling blue eyes and glistening chocolate-coloured fur that was illuminated by the nearby flames. Muscles and sinew were evident on her arms and legs, and she gazed up in admiration of the two older otters who were standing on either side of her. The male, who was holding her right paw, squeezed it gently upon noticing she was watching him. She merely smiled and returned the gesture.

The other female nudged her. "You think that storm will ever let up?"

The younger otter winked mischievously. "Even if it doesn't, at least we've got a good story to tell. Isn't that right mates?"

A rousing cheer lifted up to the ancient ceiling as the Redwallers clapped excitedly. The ottermaid bowed her head slightly and waited until the noise dwindled before gesturing to an old hare seated nearby. "Abbot Torlay-"

Before she could continue, her fellow creatures erupted in another cheer at the mention of their Abbot. The old hare, whose fur was now completely grey with age, smiled humbly and pressed his paws together.

The ottermaid spoke again after several moments of waiting patiently. "Abbot Torlay has requested that I share my tale with you all. It is a night for storytelling, as you can probably tell by the wind outside that the blizzard is still strong. We have plenty of food and drink. Those of you who are visiting, I welcome you. Redwall Abbey is your home for as long as you wish."

The two older otters released their hold on her paws then, kissing her forehead and taking their places near the front. Upon sitting down the female kissed the cheek of a young male. He blushed visibly and took her smaller mitt in his. Aside from being much younger, he was nearly identical to the other three otters. The female also held the older male's paw, obviously content in her surroundings.

Leaning back in her chair, the female sighed softly and spread her paws wide in a gesture of the entire room. "This place wasn't always peaceful. There have been countless stories of vermin warlords who attempted to conquer our beloved Abbey, evil ones who believed they were the rightful rulers. Redwall has lost many a brave warrior, but it remains standing and will so for all time. My story takes place in a time of despair and cruelty, when Mossflower was under the tyranny of an evil creature never seen before in these woodlands."

"Every creature leads a different life, but they all must learn a valuable lesson: friendship and loyalty are the most important things in this world. Some will forget this, but others will hold onto it for their entire seasons. You may even find friendship in the most unlikely of creatures. Remember this when you are listening to my tale."

Outside the wind continued to howl and moan, and the only thing that could be heard inside Cavern Hole was the crackling of the fires as the ottermaid began her story.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: A big thank you to **Redwallfreak** and my adoptive mommy **Auda** for their lovely reviews, as well as everyone who is reading the story.

Reviews are always appreciated and welcome.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

As if awakening from a long winters sleep, flowers gingerly opened up to drink the rays of sunlight that filtered in through Mossflower's thick canopy. Birds chirped their morning songs as a new day dawned over the forest, the grass and leaves glistening with dew as they sparkled in the already bright sun. Its tiny wings humming, a bumblebee landed ever so softly on a flower and greedily sucked up its delicious nectar. Some pollen stuck to the insect's leg, but it took no notice as it drank. When it was finished, it lifted itself into the cool air and headed for another plant. Spring had arrived in Mossflower Woods.

Dawn was Culy's favourite time of the day, and she took in the beautiful sight as she stood atop the battlements of Redwall Abbey. The young ottermaid inhaled deeply, enjoying the sun's warmth on her face and a light breeze ruffling her whiskers. While still many seasons away from adulthood, she was loved by all and regarded as a wise and brave creature. She was tall and slim, with chocolate-coloured fur and sparkling blue eyes, features she had inherited from her mother and father respectively. Her creamy underbelly ran from throat to rump, where her muscular tail acted as an underwater steer. Like all otters Culy was an incredible swimmer, having learned to master the water when she was a Dibbun (this is the term given to all Abbey young ones). She was also skilled in the ways of close combat, often practicing with her father on the Abbey grounds with an otter javelin. Not too long ago her mother had given her a fearsome dirk, explaining that she had once wielded it. Culy kept the weapon at her bedside as, with the exception of battle, swords and the like were not allowed to be carried around the Abbey.

Culy's peaceful thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her grumbling stomach, something her father said she had received from her "uncle" Alddon, his best friend. It was almost time for breakfast, which meant the Redwallers would awaken to start another busy day. The young ottermaid gazed out at the never-ending landscape one last time before making her way down to the main building. Breakfast could wait; there was one more place she had to visit.

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><p>Redwall Abbey towered above the forest, like a protective mother watching over her beloved child. The ancient structure had been standing for countless seasons, built by those who had fled from a sickness that had plagued the now buried Loamhedge Abbey. Despite its age, Redwall did not show any signs of structural weaknesses as it was extremely well-kept by the many inhabitants who lived within its four walls. The Bell Tower loomed over the main Abbey building, and the two bells - named Matthias and Methuselah in honour of two bygone heroes - rested comfortably as if patiently waiting to be tolled.<p>

Culy tip-pawed to Great Hall, a massive and ornate room filled with stained glass windows and gigantic columns. At the end were two spiral staircases, one that led to Cavern Hole and another that would take her to the dormitories where creatures were still slumbering, so she was extra careful in not making any loud noises or movements. She was an early riser, often up before the sun to get in her morning exercises of swimming in the Abbey pond.

At the front of the room was a long wooden table and old chair. This was the Abbot's Chair, a seat only used by the Abbot or Abbess. Halting at the table, Culy peered up at the tapestry that hung from the wall in front and on either side of her. It was a magnificent and very treasured artifact, having been around since the Abbey's construction. Culy recalled being held in her mother's arms and her father telling her about the tapestry's significance. Even though it was as old as Redwall itself, it displayed no signs of being tested by the element of time. The young ottermaid enjoyed studying the tapestry as it told the history of Redwall, but she especially loved the depiction in the very middle: Martin the Warrior.

She stared at the picture. Martin was in full armour, leaning on his famous sword whilst vermin fled behind him in fear. One of his footpaws was on the skull of some giant beast; Culy remember being told in Abbey School that it was an evil wildcat Queen who had attempted to conquer Mossflower and enslave all its inhabitants. Martin was the saviour of the forest, slaying the wicked one and ensuring that Mossflower was free from tyranny. The heroic mouse was also the co-founder of Redwall, helping to build it and becoming its first Warrior. He had a soft smile on his brave features, and whenever Culy peered into his eyes she felt as if he were watching her. It was not unusual to see the young maid talking to the Warrior's image, and it was said that Martin's spirit protected the Abbey from harm, often appearing in times of trouble and despair to aid the woodlanders.

Above Martin's picture, the actual sword rested on two spikes. A red pommel stone gleamed in the filtering sunlight, and the two-pawed handle was ordained with a cross-hilt. This was nothing special, but the double-edged blade, sharp as a hawk's talons, shone like a brightly-burning fire. It had been forged at the ancient mountain Salamandastron, home of the Badger Rulers and the fabled hare army known as the Long Patrol, from the metal of a fallen star seasons before the Abbey was constructed. Culy hoped that one day she would wield the ancient yet dangerous weapon.

Although she was not tired in the least, she felt the need to lay down on the cool stone floor. Upon doing so her eyelids began to droop. Soft tolling rang in her ears, yet she knew the twin bells had not been rung. Her senses swam in dizzying circles, and before she could stop herself she dozed off. A gentle voice came from the distance. "_Beware the Hooded Clan_."

Time appeared to stand still, but her dream quickly ended as she felt somebeast shaking her. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked several times and smiled upon realizing who the creature was.

"Thought I'd find ye down 'ere. You'll be late for breakfast if ye keep dozin' off like that."

Semser helped his young daughter to her footpaws, and she kissed his cheek lovingly. "Sorry Dad. Must have fallen asleep while talkin' to Martin."

The older otter nodded in understanding. "Yore mother an' I used to speak to Martin when we were yore age. Everybeast does it now an' then."

"Did he say anything to ye?"

"No, but that doesn't mean 'e wasn't listenin'. Martin's the silent type; he won't always answer-"

She finished his sentence with a chuckle. "But he'll always listen. I know; ye told me that when I was a Dibbun."

Semser's eyes gleamed with admiration at his daughter. "An' look at wot a fine young maid you've become. By chance Martin say anythin' to ye?"

She sighed and glanced up at the armoured mouse, totally forgetting about her very brief dream. "Nary a word. At least it's comfortin' to know that he's listenin'. Shall we head down to the kitchens? I'm sure Friar Alddon and Ganlel would appreciate some help."

"Excellent idea m'dear. If we don't get there soon enough I'm sure yore uncle will scoff up the entire breakfast. Goodness knows how much he loves t'eat. Yore mother is probably down there now."

Father and daughter linked arms and strode down the ancient floor, unaware of both the Warrior and another pair of eyes following them.

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><p>Down in the Abbey kitchens, Friar Alddon was busy preparing breakfast. His wife and assistant, Ganlel, washed dishes and kept a watchful eye on a batch of blueberry scones that were baking in the ovens. Alddon, who was big in stature, was busy whipping up a different recipe made with oatmeal. Both squirrels worked efficiently and quickly, but it was always helpful to have a few extra creatures lending a paw.<p>

Semser and Culy arrived, both giving Alddon and Ganlel a hug and clap on the back. Semser then immediately walked over to the massive table that sat in the middle of the kitchens, where a beautiful ottermaid, nearly identical to Culy, was washing and cutting strawberries.

She turned to him with a big smile on her serene features, and he kissed her nose. "How are we doin' this mornin', m'love?"

Emroon blushed and whacked him playfully on the arm. "Quite the charmer you have for a father, Culy."

Alddon could not help but chuckle at this statement. "Charmer? Ye don't 'appen to remember the first day ye arrived 'ere, Emroon? That rascal played a trick on ye, made ye call the Abbot 'Father'."

Emroon took hold of her husband's paw and squeezed it gently. "I remember that very clearly, Alddon. But he made up for it in his good looks."

Culy giggled and winked at her parents. "Who knows, mayhap I'll be a charmer one day. Should be useful in a few seasons, wouldn't ye agree Dad?"

Semser knew exactly where she was going, but he also knew she was playing. "Oh ye don't 'ave to worry about that m'dear. I'll make sure no male otter gets close to ye."

Everybeast shared a chuckle, though they all knew about Semser's protective instincts. Even when Culy was a babe he had fiercely guarded her, making sure she was safe and under his watchful eye. No matter how wise she was or how fast she was growing up, he would worry about her. She was his daughter, after all.

The wondrous aroma of freshly-baked scones suddenly assaulted Semser's nostrils, and he licked his lips, commenting to Emroon, "I've been here plenty o' seasons, but I'll never get tired of smellin' all this delicious food! Redwall certainly does 'ave the best vittles."

Emroon continued to slice strawberries as she replied, "You won't be having anything for breakfast if you don't start helping."

Semser wrinkled his nose at her in mock severity, but before he could get out a playful retort Alddon piped up. "No worries there, marm. I'm sure yore glutton o' a husband will eat us all out o' the Abbey if'n 'e 'ad the chance."

Semser picked up a piece of fruit and flung it at the squirrel Friar, who neatly caught it in his mouth. "Says the one who 'as an appetite to match a hare."

Culy whispered to her mother, "Those two are like Dibbuns bickerin' over the last candied chestnut."

Both Semser and Alddon looked at her in mock suspicion and said in unison, "I heard that."

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><p>Before long, Redwallers started to appear in Cavern Hole. The tables were lined with white cloth and pitchers of lemon water and hot mint tea placed on top, along with flowers of various species. Near the front rested two big tankards of strawberry cordial, a delicious drink brewed by the Cellarmaster, a fat old hedgehog with gray spines. Culy assisted in putting out all the food, her mouth salivating at the scrumptious-looking dishes. In addition to the scones there was also hot porridge topped with raspberries and blackberries, blueberry-and-strawberry pancakes dripping with fresh honey, cheeses studded with nuts and fruit, and fresh bread with ingredients such as nuts and cinnamon baked right in. Once all the food was out, it was time for the Abbey grace. This was recited before every meal, led by the Abbot or Abbess. An ancient grey-furred hare rose from his seat, clasped his paws together, and spoke.<p>

'_Seasons of plenty at Redwall,  
>Yield their bounty to us all,<br>From the good earth's fertile soil,  
>We who bent our backs in toil,<br>Reaped Mother Nature's rich reward,  
>To bring unto this festive board,<br>This food which we have laboured for,  
>What honest beast could ask for more,<br>Save that kind seasons never cease,  
>And hope to live long lives in peace!'<em>

While she ate, Culy studied her fellow Redwallers. There was an abundance of species, from mice and shrews to otters, hedgehogs, and squirrels. Everybeast sat where they pleased, but the Abbess - or Abbot in this case - sat at the head of the table. Torlay was still as wise as ever, though there were permanent flecks of sadness in his aging eyes. His mate, Tsella, had passed on to the sunny slopes and quiet streams several seasons ago, and while all the inhabitants grieved for this loss Torlay had suffered the most. However, he took some comfort in knowing that they would eventually be reunited.

At the same table as Culy and her parents sat the latter's friends. Her eyes fell upon the magnificent sight of Mahdis Camberk, who was no longer the only badger at the Abbey. He was sitting alongside a young badgermaid named Lilee, who was seated beside one of the other newcomers: a female hedgehog called Livandle. She was known as Liv, a kindred spirit who had come to Redwall only a season ago with her adopted son and daughter, the badgermaid being one of them. The other one, who had instantly caught Culy's eye, was on the other side of Liv.

Emroon's hushed voice came close to her ear. "I have to admit, he is pretty handsome. Don't tell your father I said that."

Culy stifled a laugh and lowered her voice to a whisper, leaning in towards her mother. "That makes both of us."

Emroon winked and returned to her meal, but Culy watched him from beneath hooded lids. His full name was Treyl, but he preferred to be called Trey. He was an otter about the same age as her, though a little taller. They had talked only a few times since his arrival, and she really didn't know much about him other than he was an orphan. His parents had been killed by vermin when he was an infant, and Liv had adopted he and Lilee as her own. Culy did not know where the young badgermaid was originally from, but Trey mentioned he and Liv had lived in a village on the fringe of northeastern Mossflower before it was attacked by vermin wearing hooded cloaks. He had no recollection of this, having been told the village's fate by Liv. After finding and adopting Lillee, they made their way south towards the Abbey. Trey mentioned he had never heard of Redwall, though Liv had said it was the safest place for them.

The young ottermaid pushed the tragic thoughts from her mind and focused on the meal. She would need the nourishment as it was to be another busy day at the Abbey.

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><p>At the top of the spiral staircase, hidden from view, a large male raven watched the Redwallers. He had silently followed the two otters from Great Hall to Cavern Hole, careful not to make any noise that would give away his position. He took note of their numbers and species, ruffled his black feathers gleefully, and launched himself into the air. He had much news to tell his master, especially of his findings in the big hall. Exiting from an open window in Great Hall, he flew over the Abbey's north wall and vanished into the thickness of Mossflower Woods.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: A big thank you to **Auda**, **a fallen tree**, **Redwallfreak**, and **Shi Ern** for their lovely reviews!

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

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><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

Less than a half-day march from Redwall lay a vermin camp. Most of the creatures were still slumbering in their tents, but some were already fishing in the nearby stream or foraging along the bank for food. They looked simple enough, except for their clothing. Every single vermin was wearing a dark green hooded cloak that fastened at their necks and concealed any weapons that may have been buckled at their sides. It was mandatory for all to wear the hoods - this was to make sure no woodlander could recognize them - and death if a vermin did not comply. This was the Hooded Clan, a feared army of about a hundred soldiers all armed to the fang with weapons and ready to fight at a moments notice. All the vermin relished war and plundering, and would often quarrel over treasure. The same applied to food, as it was every creature for themselves. Unlike Redwall, the horde was not a family.

Panting slightly, the raven headed directly for the largest tent, which was separated from the rest of the camp. He folded his jet-black wings into his body and waddled inside, ensuring he stopped several feet short of a large chair. He was intelligent enough not to make eye contact with the barbaric beauty lounging in the seat.

She was long and thin, with glimmering white teeth and green eyes that sparkled like the finest emeralds. Six perfectly straight whiskers sprouted from either side of her narrow muzzle, and a long purple cloak flowed behind her, fastened to her neck with a mouse skull. Her deep brown fur was tinged with black and flecked with silver, ending at the tip of her bushy tail. With the exception of a few randomly placed cream-coloured blotches, her underbelly was the same colour as the rest of her body. Two small rounded ears swivelled constantly, picking up the slightest sounds. Each paw had five semi-retractable and incredibly sharp claws. She was an impressive sight to behold.

Bowing respectfully, the raven began his report. "There are scores of woodlanders, your Majesty. Treemice, riverdogs, hedgepigs, an old longears, an' even a big male stripedog. He looks like he'll be a tough one to defeat."

She scowled at the bird, her speech regal. "I'll be the judge of that."

The raven didn't dare move as he continued. "When I was in the big hall I saw a picture of a mouse. He was on a great cloth fastened to the wall."

This information did not seem to impress his master any. "What need do I have of a tapestry mouse?"

"The two riverdogs, they seem to worship this mouse. I saw the female staring at him like he was her hero. All the inhabitants must think the same."

Realization dawned upon the other creature, and she revealed four wickedly long canines in a grotesque smile. "We steal the picture, we steal their spirit. I'll have Redwall Abbey in my claws before I've even done anything. Excellent work, Clawing. Take a rest; you return to the Abbey tonight. We'll go over the details later."

Clawing clacked his beak and walked out of the tent, relieved that his Majesty had appeared pleased with his findings. She was known to have a hot temper, and he had witnessed her bad side. It was something he did not want to experience for himself.

Lady Mortaza the Wicked sneered at the sounds of the vermin outside and took a drink from the goblet that was resting on the table beside her. The aroma of roasted black-backed gull assaulted her nostrils, and she instantly started to salivate. However, she did not rise from her seat. She merely stayed put and waited patiently.

Before long a male entered the tent holding the steaming carcass. Other than having coarser fur and being both taller and larger, he was identical. Flashing her a smile, he tore off one of the wings and handed it to her. Nodding her thanks, she sunk her sharp teeth into the juicy meat, licking her lips as she chewed. "Delicious. Did you bring it down?"

He replied as he ripped off the other wing. "Aye. They don't usually come this far inland, but it must have been a straggler. Although I'm sure this is nothing compared to what that Abbey has."

Mortaza's eyes burned cruelly. "The crow mentioned a hare, albeit an old one. They're quite delicious when roasted over a fire."

Lord Kren the Savage smiled, revealing his needle-sharp teeth. "All in good time, my love. First we need to conquer Redwall; then we will have our feast."

His wife, who was the more crueler one of the pair, said nothing as she patted his paw affectionately and continued with her breakfast. Kren thought silently to himself as he ate in the chair beside her. While their horde had an assortment of creatures - rats, stoats, foxes, weasels, and ferrets - he and Mortaza were the only two fishers. This was on purpose though, as both believed their species to be the most intelligent. They were well aware that a fisher had never been sighted in Mossflower, which meant that Redwall most likely had no information about the breed. Kren and Mortaza were feared predators and leaders, known for their terrible path of death and destruction. As their army grew bigger, so did their reputation. Unlike most vermin leaders, who were determined to keep the wealth to themselves, husband and wife planned on conquering Redwall together. Both were full-grown adults, capable of tearing apart any creature with a swipe of their deadly claws, and totally fearless. Taking over an Abbey full of peace-loving woodlanders wouldn't prove to be too difficult, even with the badger there. Besides, his strength would make him an excellent worker.

Mortaza swallowed the last remaining meat on the gull wing and licked her lips in contentment, an evil gleam in her deceptively beautiful eyes. "We make our move tonight. This time tomorrow, we'll be dining inside Redwall Abbey."

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><p>The day at Redwall passed by uneventful. Culy assisted in cleaning up Cavern Hole, as did everybeast, before starting her duties as assistant to Liv, who was Nursemaid of all the Dibbuns. The kind hogmaid had not held the title for very long but she was incredibly patient with the rowdy babes, who thought everything was one big game. After breakfast the two companions gathered all the youngsters and gave each one a bath, although most of the Dibbuns disliked this part of the day and often struggled with their caregivers. To help calm them down, Liv sang to the infants in a gentle voice whilst carefully scrubbing them from ears to tail. When that was finished, she passed them to Culy who would dry them with a fresh cloth. Sometimes she would cover their eyes with it and act as if they had suddenly vanished. All the Dibbuns showed their love for this game by clapping, giggling, and asking to do the same to Culy. Once the babes had been dried and dressed Liv and Culy took them outside for some play time, as it was a wonderful spring day accompanied by a light breeze. Semser and Emroon, who shared the title as Abbey Warrior, assisted in the orchards as there was much fruit to be picked. Culy simultaneously watched the Dibbuns and her parents, chuckling as her father constantly bugged her mother. It was amusing to see the two adults playing around, as Culy was fully aware of the hardships they had endured. Semser had told her about Emroon's tragic past and of the one called Dakmus who had very briefly conquered Redwall before being slain by the ottermaid. But perhaps the most trying time was when Semser was temporarily paralyzed after saving Emroon's life. Culy remembered the night when her father had walked, albeit slowly, from the door to her bed. Eventually the brave otter moved from the wheelchair to using a blackthorn stick - which also doubled as a weapon - to get around. Now he walked without any assistance, although he and Emroon often held paws.<p>

A baby mouse tugged at her habit and pointed at a patch of grass, bringing the young ottermaid back to reality. She picked him up and smiled in admiration at the two otters she was blessed to call her parents.

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><p>It was a cool night in Mossflower. Somewhere in the forests vastness an owl hooted mournfully, but Clawing ignored it. His main focus was on the figure he had spotted atop the north wall. He could not make out their species, but they were nonetheless a Redwaller and a beast he did not want to encounter. Flying low beneath the canopy, the sly raven made his way to and over the south wall. He landed quietly on a windowsill that took him right into Great Hall and looked around cautiously, ensuring that nobeast had spied him. He had heard about a big male hawk living at the Abbey and was not particularly keen on meeting him. Clawing's plummage camouflaged him against the black night, and he remained frozen as his eyes darted back and forth between the various trees on the Abbey grounds. There was no sight of the raptor - although it didn't mean he wasn't out there watching - and after a few seconds he flapped his powerful wings, hovering in the air for a brief moment before digging his talons into the top of the Abbot's Chair. He studied the picture before him. The armoured mouse seemed to stare into his very spirit, as if he were warning him to turn around and flee into Mossflower. Clawing shook his head and, leaping onto a table that rested against the wall, immediately started ripping the material with his beak and talons.<p>

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><p>Culy gazed out at the uncharted night sky, which sparkled like gems from the billions of stars that lined its velvety blanket. Normally sleep did not elude her, but an odd feeling tugged at her heart and no matter how hard she tried her bed felt uncomfortable. She had sneaked out of the Gatehouse Cottage, briefly checking on her parents before heading up the stairs and to the Abbey parapets. The dirk that Emroon had given her was buckled to her waist in case of an emergency.<p>

Light from the full moon poured down on the young ottermaid, and although she did not feel tired her eyelids drooped heavily. A tranquil feeling washed over her, and she was unaware of whether she was awake or dreaming. From the corridors of her young mind, a voice called urgently to her.

"Culy, you must help me!"

A misty figure walked towards her, and she instantly knew who it was: Martin the Warrior. The ancient mouse, clad in his battle armour, pointed his great sword in the direction of Great Hall. "Please, don't let the evil ones take me!"

Culy's dream ended as quickly as it had began, and she took immediate action. Whipping out her dirk, she bolted down the stairs and sprinted across the lawns. Realization struck in the form of an icy claw gripping her heart: somebeast was stealing Martin's tapestry.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews! Please know that your comments are greatly appreciated.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

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><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

An unseen force galvanized Culy into action, making her completely forgot the horrible feeling she had felt only moments earlier. From her throat issued a hoarse scream as she threw herself at the intruder. Clawing had no time to react; the roaring bundle of fur was upon him in an instant. Blood rose in the young ottermaid's eyes as she bit and tore at his plummage. The bird cawed with pain as Culy's sharp claws found his skin, and her loud voice boomed in his ears. "Thief!"

She bared her teeth and snarled viciously, attempting to get at Clawing's throat. He somehow managed to throw her off him, flaring his massive wings and appearing twice as large. "You've signed your death warrant, riverdog!"

Culy suddenly lashed out with her powerful rudder, catching the raven by surprise and knocking him off balance. "How dare you steal our Warrior!"

The racket had several creatures sprinting down the spiral staircase, including Abbot Torlay and Mahdis. Semser and Emroon burst through the doors, having also been awoken by the commotion. Regaining his senses, Clawing attempted to leap up onto the table that was against the wall. Culy anticipated this move and dove in front of him, blocking access to the tapestry. Black feathers were strewn everywhere, evident of the damage Culy had inflicted. Despite this, the young ottermaid had received a few cuts herself from the raven's wicked talons and beak. Wings flared and teeth bared, the two creatures fought for the upper claw.

Semser desperately wanted to help his daughter, but one look at her reddened eyes told him it would be inviting death. He had seen it before, and he uttered a single word. "Bloodwrath."

Culy did not even see her parents or friends; all her glazed eyes took in was the raven. She lunged at him, but he nimbly dodged backward and thrust out with his powerful beak, nearly stabbing her exposed throat. The young ottermaid was totally unfazed by this and continued to charge at the bird, who kept lashing out in defence.

Emroon, on the verge of tears, stepped in. She knew how incredibly dangerous it was to interfere with a creature afflicted with the Bloodwrath, but Culy was becoming even more violent. If she wasn't stopped, they'd all be dead within minutes.

"Culy, enough!"

Emroon's booming tone shot out in the Hall. At the sound of her mother's voice, Culy's eyes and breathing slowly began to return to normal. She crumbled to the ground, totally exhausted.

In the midst of it all, Clawing cursed under his breath. Lady Mortaza would surely be furious at his failed attempt. But like all creatures the raven valued his life and knew he had no chance in stealing the tapestry now, especially while being surrounded by angry-looking Redwallers. He just barely avoided being caught by Mahdis, and as he lifted himself into the air he cawed mockingly at the woodlanders. "You may still have your precious mouse warrior, but the Hooded Clan will prevail. Soon you will all become slaves in your own Abbey!"

Without a second glance, the raven bolted off.

* * *

><p>Mahdis - with Semser and Emroon hovering over him - checked Culy to ensure she was not seriously injured. After dabbing the wounds she had received from the raven with some water, the large yet gentle badger wrapped them in cloth to prevent any airborne viruses from entering. Semser requested that he have a moment with his daughter, and Abbot Torlay gently ushered those who had been awakened back upstairs.<p>

Ermoon whispered to Semser, "Don't be too harsh on the young 'un. After all, she did save Martin."

The otter nodded to his wife, who kissed him and Culy on their foreheads before heading to the Gatehouse Cottage.

Semser watched her leave, then turned to Culy. She did not meet his gaze. "My daughter, the foolish 'ero."

Now she raised her eyes. "But Dad, I-"

He held a paw up. "What ye did was incredibly brave, although ye could 'ave gotten yoreself killed. When I saw ye fightin' that big raven my heart nearly stopped."

The young ottermaid looked down sheepishly, hot tears stinging her eyes. Semser placed his paw underneath her chin and gently lifted her head so she was looking at him. "The last thing I want to see is ye gettin' hurt, or worse."

"I felt something," Culy quietly explained as her father wiped away one of her tears. "I don't know exactly what it was, but it was like I was possessed. All I saw was the raven."

Semser sighed heavily. "Yes, I know. Yore eyes were shrouded with blood; ye were sufferin' from the Bloodwrath."

Culy was immediately intrigued, and she questioned her father on the meaning of this strange word. "Is that some sort of a curse?"

The older otter smiled wearily and placed a paw on her shoulder. "That's for a time when it's not durin' the night. I'm proud of ye, Culy. You fought with a brave an' noble heart; the makings o' a true warrior."

Culy's cheeks visibly turned red at this comment, but guilt radiated in her tear-stained eyes. "I'm sorry I scared you an' Mom."

Semser smiled in admiration at his daughter and kissed her paw. "Never apologize for doin' the right thing. We should head back t'the Gatehouse; a warrior like yoreself needs a lot of rest."

* * *

><p>Mortaza lashed out angrily at Clawing, saliva foaming at the corners of her mouth. "Useless fool! How did you let a puny riverdog defeat you?"<p>

Clawing attempted to hide from the fisher's raging glare, but it was no use. "Master, this one seems like a warrior. Her eyes were filled with blood!"

"Excuses!" Mortaza's chest heaved as she kicked him again. "Nothing but pathetic excuses! You have failed me, Clawing. I don't like it when my creatures fail me."

"Give me another chance; I promise I won't let you down."

Quick as a flash Mortaza grabbed him by the throat and held him close to her face. He winced as her rancid breath assaulted his nostrils, her emerald eyes ablaze with raw fury. "Good, because if you fail me again you'll be plucked and roasted...alive."

Kren made sure to keep a safe distance from his fuming wife, who stormed into the tent and spat on the ground. He was the more calm one of the pair, often hiding his anger before revealing it in the form of a beating or beheading. Perched on one of the chairs at a long wooden table, he studied her carefully with his magnificent blue irises.

Mortaza kicked the earth with her footpaw, causing dirt particles to scatter in all directions. Her tail flickered angrily from side to side. "A simple instruction, and the idiot nearly gets himself killed by some riverdog."

Kren poured some elderberry wine - which they had stolen from a mouse family several days ago - into a large silver goblet and offered it to her. "Perhaps it's time we make ourselves known to those woodlanders. No doubt they'll hide in fear at the sight of us."

Accepting the goblet, Mortaza swirled the crimson liquid around for a moment before taking a small drink. "I want to sleep, so you'll be in charge of weapons. Make sure all blades are sharpened and arrows ready; I don't want to give the Redwallers any time to gather defences. We attack at dawn."

* * *

><p>"What's Bloodwrath?"<p>

Emroon chuckled at her daughter's persistence. "Didn't your father tell you that was for another time?"

"Well yes, but I want to know. Is it bad? Should I be worried?"

A loving smile passed over Emroon's lips, and she exchanged glances with Semser who was seated on the other side of Culy's bed. The young ottermaid noticed this and sat upright, concern washing over her face.

"Culy," Emroon spoke in a soft tone as to not frighten the youngster. "I once suffered from the Bloodwrath. It's a condition that usually only affects badgers, although as you already know other creatures can suffer from it."

Semser took his daughter's paw in his and squeezed it gently. "The Bloodwrath forces the afflicted to only see their enemy, but it also causes them to inflict great amounts of damage."

Culy's heart immediately began to race, which Semser felt through her paw. "But I don't want to cause harm to anybeast. Is the Bloodwrath permanent?"

Emroon looked levelly at her daughter and offered a comforting smile "Nobeast knows. However, it is possible to control it from totally consuming you - although this takes an incredible amount of personal strength to do so."

Culy allowed the words to sink in, but fear was also seeping into her veins. The very idea of possibly suffering from this terrible-sounding Bloodwrath for a second time frightened her, and she was beginning to regret ever asking about the mysterious ailment.

Leaning in, Semser kissed the tip of her nose. "My child, there is no need to worry. Focus on the fact that you saved our tapestry from being stolen by that wicked raven. Now I think it's time we all get some sleep. It'll be morning soon."

Culy stifled a yawn and kissed her parents on their cheeks, watching them through sleepy eyes as they left her small room. She immediately fell into a deep slumber, where all her fears were vanquished and replaced with a sense of comfort and protection. Martin the Warrior appeared, still wearing his gleaming armour and wielding his magnificent sword, and his voice was soothing, like a bell tolling over a flower-clad hill.

"My friend, I thank you in rescuing me. You must continue to defend your Abbey, for there is a great evil approaching. Trust your mother and father, and rise up like the brave warrior you are. I am here always and will guide you throughout your journey. Destiny has chosen you, Culy. Remember to stay true to your heart, and that friendship is far more important than any riches or jewels."

The young ottermaid felt safe in the Warrior's presence. His image faded and she found herself floating like a leaf caught in an autumn breeze, high above the Abbey and far over the gently-lapping ocean into the great unknown.

* * *

><p>Shortly after Kren left the tent to gather up and organize the army, Mortaza fell asleep and dreamed a terrifying dream. She was standing on the beach, waves crashing up against her footpaws. There was no need to turn to see the gigantic mountain towering over her, as its shadow cast her in darkness. A noise from behind caused her to jump, and she whirled around to face whatever - or whomever - was there.<p>

She found herself staring at a young female otter. She was dressed in battle armour and wielded a beautiful sword in her right paw. The dangerous blade gleamed in the moonlight, and her eyes seemed to bore into Mortaza's spirit. This creature was obviously a powerful warrior.

The stranger took an advancing step forward, and for some reason Mortaza backed away. Although she badly wanted to fight the ottermaid, her heart pounded fearfully in her chest. She was fierce but clearly no match for this creature. Again the maid took another step, then another, until Mortaza was waist-deep in water.

Mortaza's voice shook as she addressed her adversary. "What do you want with me?"

The ottermaid said nothing and continued to approach, and sudden realization caused the fisher to nearly panic: she was deliberately being pushed back farther into the endless ocean. The cold water was at her shoulders now, threatening to swallow her up into its icy depths. Thoughts of Kren raced through her mind.

As the water rushed into her ears and nose and she was pulled under into a watery grave, the ottermaid uttered five words.

"Hellgates is waiting for you!"

* * *

><p>Lady Mortaza simultaneously screamed and awoke, sitting bolt upright in her bed. Beads of perspiration clung to her fur, and her furious heartbeat pounded her eardrums. She had never experienced such a realistic nightmare; it felt as if she was still being dragged down to the ocean floor, the ottermaid's voice taunting her. The female fisher was normally a brutal creature and not easily frightened, but the look she had received from the maid was enough to make her tremble with complete and utter fear. Even worse was that she had no idea as to her identity or what she was seeking.<p>

But one thing was horribly certain: this was only the beginning.

* * *

><p>Dawn swept over Mossflower, bringing with it the promise of another spectacular spring day. The beauty of it all was totally ignored by the Hooded Clan as they approached Redwall Abbey, keeping to the bushes behind the North Path. To anybeast patrolling the walls the foliage didn't appear to look any different. Keeping low, Mortaza pointed to a figure on the walltop and nodded to a rat archer who was known to have impeccable aim. He notched an arrow to his bow, pulled the string back, and waited.<p>

Culy was in her usual spot on the battlements above the main gate. Totally unaware of the hidden danger, she munched on a few ripe strawberries whilst enjoying being a witness to the arrival of a new day. She turned her head, and without hesitation the rat archer released his arrow. It buzzed up through the air like a maddened wasp, heading straight for Culy's skull.

At that exact moment a strawberry fell from the young ottermaid's webbed paw and rolled on the ancient stone before coming to a stop in front of her. She bent down to pick it up and felt a small gust of wind over her head. Instinctively she remained in her position and watched in horror as an arrow buried itself into the earth near the pond.

Culy leapt into action. Sprinting on all fours, she bolted down the stairs and towards the Bell Tower. Once there she grabbed the two ropes with both paws and pulled hard.

_Boooooong! Boooooong!_

The Matthias and Methuselah bells sounded out a warning that instantly awoke everybeast within Redwall. Abbot Torlay burst through the doors of Great Hall and looked up at where Culy was standing at the Bell Tower window.

She wasted no time in relaying the urgent message. "The Abbey is under attack!"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you to **Auda** and **Shi Ern** for their lovely reviews.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 5<span>

Outside, Mortaza ordered for more arrows to be launched. Her army snarled and hissed viciously, impatiently waiting for the bloodshed to begin. Despite their scraggly appearances they were seasoned fighters and well-trained in the arts of slaughter and thievery. Whilst she controlled the aerial assault, Kren prepared the rest of the vermin for a diversion.

Almost instantly archers swarmed the Abbey battlements, firing off arrows into the bushes. It proved to be a difficult task though, as the Redwallers were unable to see their well-camouflaged enemies. Vermin nimbly jumped and ducked as missiles landed mere feet from their previous position before setting flight to their own. One arrow struck a shrew in the throat, and he toppled over dead.

His cloak rendering him practically invisible in the bushes, Kren the Savage waited patiently for Clawing's report. Although the raven mainly served Mortaza, he was loyal to both fishers. Kren watched as he soared down from his perch on the windowsill in the Abbey's southwest tower and landed near his position.

"No sight of anybeast, Lord. They're all fightin' at the front."

Without bothering to acknowledge the raven's findings, Kren glanced at two weasels who were each holding a rope attached to a three-pronged grapnel hook in their grimy claws. "You know what to do."

Wordlessly the two vermin took their positions several feet from the tower. After testing the direction of the wind, they began to whirl the hooks in wide circles. At the precise moment both weasels released the deadly weapons. The missiles soared upwards and latched onto an embrasure each in the battlement, eliciting two dull thuds of metal striking stone. Not wanting to waste any time, Kren ordered for his army to start climbing. An overweight but powerful rat went first, hauling himself up the wall with both footpaws braced firmly against the ancient sandstone. He had just reached the top when a massive black-furred paw suddenly shot out and grabbed him by the neck. A strangled scream issued from his throat and he fell backwards, losing his grip on the rope. Kren was forced to move as the rat landed with a sickening thud, neck snapped clean and a horrified grimace frozen on his lips.

Upon realizing that his diversion had failed, Kren snarled and kicked an unsuspecting Clawing. "I thought you said there was nobeast up there!"

Clawing cawed in agony as the fisher's sharp claws raked his back. He threw his wings to his head in an effort to protect himself. "Mercy! Please Lord, have mercy!"

The enraged fisher spat at him, baring his wicked fangs. "Get out of my sight you pathetic scum, afore I rip out your heart and eat it."

From atop the battlements appeared the striped head and chest of a fierce-looking male badger. Despite only seeing a small portion of his body, the fisher knew he was a gigantic beast and not one he wished to fight. In addition to the vicious snarl on his lips, the badger had an arrow notched to his bow and was aiming straight for Kren. Without warning he released the string.

Kren acted swiftly. An unsuspecting fox who was standing beside him gave a yelp of surprise as the fisher grabbed and threw him in front of his body, effectively using him as a makeshift shield. The unfortunate fox had no time to react as the arrow found him. Kren felt both the impact and shudder run through the fox's body as he slumped down, slain. Tossing the carcass to one side, the intelligent fisher realized that none of his portion of the army had arrows. They were literally standing targets for the angry badger, who now had reinforcements. Kren found himself looking at an old but obviously battle-hardened hare, a tough-looking female hedgehog, and two big male otters wielding a javelin each. Within seconds he and his army would be pincushions.

Not about to wait around for this, Kren ducked back into the bushes and ordered his vermin to do the same. As they obeyed, a ferret walking directly behind him screamed and crashed to the ground, an arrow in his skull. Kren continued to move, heading for the front of the Abbey where he could assist Mortaza. She was probably having better luck, although she wouldn't be too pleased when she heard the attempted diversion had failed. Kren loved her, but sometimes he could also be afraid of her violent temper.

* * *

><p>Mahdis stamped his clenched paw upon the battlements, clearly upset at the missed opportunity of slaying Kren. "Nearly got the scum."<p>

Abbot Torlay wasted no time. "All of you, get back to the main gate and defend this Abbey. We may have thwarted the diversion, but the battle isn't over yet."

All four creatures quickly made their way over to the north wall, but Semser still had a burning question that he posed to Mahdis. "What was that creature? I could barely recognize him beneath his cloak."

The powerful badger shrugged. "It's terrible enough we're in the midst of a full-scale attack, but even more so when we don't even know who we're fighting against."

* * *

><p>Though she would not admit it, Mortaza knew the battle was lost. Her army had managed to strike down a few Redwallers but even then it was evident the vermin were outnumbered. The Abbey's population far exceeded theirs, and despite their peaceful appearance they were knowledgeable in the art of war.<p>

From her position in the bushes she spotted Kren, ducking and weaving through the forest with his portion of the army trailing behind him. She waited until he had reached her before asking a single inquiry. "What happened?"

Her husband did not mince words. "Your idiot bird, that's what happened. Fool told us there was nobeast around, then out of nowhere a badger appeared and started attacking us."

Mortaza made a mental note to speak with Clawing before whispering urgently to her horde. "Enough!"

The archers immediately ceased fire and looked quizzically at her, but she ignored their glances and instead stepped out from the bushes where the Redwallers would be able to see her. She gazed up at the towering wall that stood before her, the oversized hood concealing her face. Kren stood beside her.

An old grizzled hare, obviously the Abbey's leader, spoke first. "I am Torlay the Abbot of Redwall. What do you want with us?"

From beneath the hood Mortaza revealed her dripping fangs. "A meeting with you, old hare."

Culy was now standing beside her parents, curious as to who this mysterious beast was. She nudged her mother and whispered, "Great seasons, what species are those creatures?"

Mortaza's sharp hearing picked up the question, and her eyes fell upon the young ottermaid. Before she could reply an unexplainable chill suddenly ran through her entire body as realization struck her: she was staring at the very same ottermaid who had haunted her dreams mere hours before. Mortaza quickly chided herself as she noticed that the maid was in fact not fearsome-looking at all. The other creatures around her, however, looked like seasoned warriors.

Kren was beginning to grow tiresome, and he pawed at his sword. "You have not given her an answer, longears. It angers me when creatures do not respond to an inquiry. Open the gates and we shall talk."

Semser laughed at this notion and gestured to his friends. "You hear that mateys? This impudent beast wants us t'let 'im in. Listen vermin, we say when the gates open. Understood?

Kren unsheathed his weapon and pointed it at the otter. "Then why don't you come out from hiding and fight me like a real warrior, riverdog?"

Semser, who was holding Martin's sword, now revealed it. "Don't tempt me, scum."

"How dare you talk to my father like that!" Culy's furious voice suddenly rang out, startling everybeast. "He an' my mom are ten times the warriors you an' your friend will ever be!"

Stung by the insult, Kren grabbed an arrow that was buried in the ground near him and made to throw it at the ottermaid. Before he could do anything, Mortaza placed a paw on his wrist, piercing eyes staring into his. "The maid is mine."

Knowing the consequences of disobeying his wife, Kren dropped the arrow without a word. His glare bore into Culy, causing her to look away.

Ignoring her husband, Mortaza turned her attention back to the Redwallers. "Do we have a meeting, old hare?"

Abbot Torlay had thought deeply about his answer, and now he gave it to his unknown enemy. "Unfortunately I cannot give you a definite reply, as I must discuss it with my fellow Redwallers."

A dangerous smile crept across Mortaza's lips. "Very well. But be warned, if your answer does not please me I will show no mercy. Oh, and you might want to teach that ottermaid some proper respect when speaking to creatures of the higher order. Some courage too, because when I conquer your Abbey she will be the first to die."

* * *

><p>Redwall Abbey had somewhat returned back to normal after the terrifying incident, although the inhabitants were still on high alert. Mahdis was busy in the Infirmary with several injuries having to be tended to. Askhew, his assistant, also aided in healing some battle wounds. Breakfast was being served in Cavern Hole, and Abbot Torlay had some lookouts posted on the walls for precautionary reasons. The old hare was not about to let his or the Abbey's guard down, especially with vermin in the vicinity. He tried to push this from his mind temporarily and focus on breakfast.<p>

Culy, however, was having difficulty dealing with what had happened on the walltop. Despite being comforted by her mother and father, she was still shaking from head to tail and excused herself from the table.

Semser made to follow her, but Emroon put her paw over his. "Let her have some time alone."

* * *

><p>Warm sunlight pooled onto Culy's beautiful features, illuminating the hot tears that streamed from her eyes as she slowly made her way to the Abbey Pond. She watched a dragonfly lazily fly over the water before skimming its surface, creating ripples so small that Culy could barely see them. Perched on a rock near the ponds edge, she merely stared straight ahead in reflection and ignored the continuous rivulets on her face.<p>

"I'm such a foolish maid," she spoke aloud to herself. "Foolishness never helped anybeast. Why did I have to open my mouth?"

"Because you're a brave fool."

Culy's head whirled around at the voice, but she immediately relaxed upon seeing who it was. "Trey. I didn't know you were there."

The young otter sat down beside her on the rock and smiled. "Tell me, why do you regret speaking to that vermin?"

"You heard what she said: she's going to kill me when she gets the chance."

Trey picked up a pebble and threw it skilfully, both otters watching as the small object skipped across nearly the entire length of the pond before sinking. "Sometimes fools can be brave. You stood up for your parents an' home. That's somethin' to be proud of, not to chastise yourself about."

Culy smiled in the morning sun. "You sound just like them."

"When you're orphaned an' 'ave a younger siblin', sometimes you grow up much faster than originally planned."

She bowed her head respectfully. "I'm sorry about your village."

"Perhaps it's a good thing I have no recollection of what happened. But if there's any good to come from such a massacre, it's that I'm now a Redwaller. Besides meeting you of course."

Culy blushed at this but could not catch the last tear falling from her right eye. Reaching up, Trey gently flicked it away with his paw. The two young otters fell silent then, huddled close together as they gazed out at the unmoving surface of the Abbey Pond.

* * *

><p>Wine spattered everywhere, and Mortaza instinctively covered her face as goblet shards flew dangerously close to her eyes. Kren was obviously furious at her interrupting his attempt in slaying Culy, and he had let it show by smashing his goblet upon the table - which edges were now dripping with the crimson liquid - in their tent.<p>

The fisher's normally calm demeanour had been replaced with vicious anger, and he glared hatred at his wife. "You would let a worthless riverdog speak to you in such a manner? Ha! I thought you were stronger than that."

She matched his stare, claws gleaming in the sunlight that filtered in through the tent's flap. "That maid is worth something; I can feel it. She mentioned her parents. From the sounds of it I'd say they're pretty important to Redwall. If that's the case, then she's just as valuable."

Kren's eyes blazed with uncontrolled fury, struggling to control his raging temper. "Had I slain her, they would have immediately surrendered!"

Mortaza shook her head at his foolishness. "They would have started a fresh battle, and they're already suffering some losses. No, we need to torture those woodlanders first before any more killing can be done."

She noticed that his jaw was now quivering with raw anger. "You better have a plan."

"Not yet, but I will. Would you rather attack a gigantic Abbey head-on without any strategic regard, or plan out assault after assault until they grow weary? Our army needs rest too. If we had continued to fight, we would have dropped dead from exhaustion. Conquering a place such as Redwall takes time and precision."

Kren saw the wisdom in her words, but he was still fuming from his missed opportunity. Throwing the hood over his head, he stormed outside and vanished from sight.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed the previous story.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6<span>

It was the middle of the following day when Clawing and some trackers headed into Mossflower to search for any creatures willing to join the Hooded Clan. The raven knew it would prove to be a simple task, as most vermin were more than eager to snatch up the opportunity of robbing and murdering innocent woodlanders. Besides, everybeast had heard of the Clan and its reign of terror. It would be foolish not to join such an illustrious army.

The small group eventually happened upon a freshly abandoned campfire. Something - or somebeast - had obviously terrified whomever had been there, as leaves and branches were strewn all over. There was even a few drops of blood near the dead fire, which still held remnants of smoke that slowly wisped up into the early afternoon air.

Clawing inspected the scene, noticing bloody pawprints resembling that of a vole. He hopped to the left to examine different tracks, a move that ultimately saved his life. Without warning an arrow buried itself in the very spot he had just been, forcing the raven to leap back in alarm. His fellow vermin merely stared at the arrow in dumbstruck awe.

Clawing peered up at a small hill overlooking the site and found himself staring at an angered male stoat. Another arrow, which was pointing straight at the raven, was notched to his bow.

The stoat sneered at the vermin and spoke directly to Clawing. "This 'ere is me camp. Ye 'ave no right to jus' barge in an' go through me stuff. Now, unless ye wants t'die, I suggest ye an' yore fellow scumbags go back ter wherever ye came from."

Not about to be insulted, Clawing puffed out his chest and flared his impressive wings. "Brave words for a beast who is outnumbered. Unless _you_ want to die, you best be putting down that arrow."

The stoat saw the wisdom in his words and slightly lowered his weapon. "Or perhaps we could discuss matters like gennelbeasts."

He jumped down from his position and walked towards Clawing, who studied him. He was a tall creature with yellowed teeth, cruel eyes, and a tattered green tunic. Despite being a little on the larger side width-wise he was obviously very strong, with muscles and sinew bunching out from his arms and legs. A black dagger hung from his waist.

"I am called Clawing, and these vermin are trackers in the Hooded Clan. No doubt you've heard of us?"

"Aye, nothin' but murderin' scum!"

Another creature materialized from the bushes, boldly walking straight past the vermin and into the campsite. Except for a smaller stature, this one looked nearly identical to the male. It was also made clear from her voice that she was a female.

The newcomer made her way over to the other stoat, her voice dripping with venom. "If'n ye askin' fer us t'join yore clan, the answer is no. We do not associate ourselves with such cruelty."

Her companion pushed her aside. "Who said anythin' about not joinin', sister? Synno does wot 'e wants, an' I wants to be a part o' this army."

Clawing glared at the bold female stoat. "A vermin who doesn't relish joining an army. Pray I ask, why don't you want to join our fabled clan? Your brother seems quite intrigued."

She sneered at him in contempt. "Clean the mess out o' yore ears, raven. I already gave ye my reason. Yore nothin' but murderin' scum!"

The one called Synno then posed a question. "Wot's in it fer us?"

"Only being a member of the greatest army that ever roamed these woods. Of course there's also the chance of owning some slaves from Redwall Abbey."

The female stoat merely laughed at this. "That's a good 'un! You an' yore pathetic army are tryin' t'conquer Redwall. Methinks I'll join jus' t'see you stupid lot git yoreselves killed by those woodlanders. They're fierce beasts."

Clawing's feathers rose dangerously, and his pupils became slits. "You are beginning to anger me, stoat. You best watch what you say."

"An' you best not be callin' me that agin. The name's Gala, an' this 'ere is my brother Synno."

Totally ignoring her, Clawing focused his attention on the other vermin. "So what do you say, stoat? Lord Kren and Lady Mortaza will be greatly pleased to have you become a member of the Hooded Clan. They're always looking for more warriors like yourself."

This flattery seemed to impress Synno, and he nodded in agreement. "Ye got yoreself a deal, raven."

* * *

><p>Mortaza was busy going over some new battle plans in her tent when a commotion reached her ears. She initially ignored it but the noise quickly grew louder, to the point where something was obviously wrong. Figuring it was another scuffle breaking out between the vermin, she rolled her eyes and casually walked outside, sword in paw.<p>

A female stoat thrashed around in the tight hold of two guards, who were clearly struggling to contain her. She bared her sharp teeth, spittle flying everywhere as she lashed out with her powerful hind legs. One of the guards cried out in pain as her claws raked his eye, and he released his hold on her arm. Synno, who was nearby, did nothing to aid his sister.

The other immediately whipped out his dagger and was about to stab her when his weapon suddenly fell from his grasp. He doubled over in agony and retched from the savage blow he had just received from Mortaza's clenched paw.

She spat on him before turning her attention to the still-struggling stoat, emerald eyes burning cruelly. "'Twould be a pity to waste such a strong and confident fighter. Tell me, what is your name?"

The reply she received was one of pure hatred. "Go an' boil yore head, scum."

Mortaza's tail twitched in annoyance, but she contained her temper and simply chuckled. "Scum, am I? You're definitely not short on nerve. Why are you injuring my warriors when they have done nothing to you?"

Gala refused to meet her glare; instead, she kept her eyes fixated on the ground as she replied. "Ha! Yore so-called warriors 'ave taken me against my will. I will not associate meself with such evil. I 'ave better things t'do than slay innocent beasts."

Mortaza threw back her head and laughed, obviously amused by the stoat's remark. "I am giving you a chance to make a name for yourself when I conquer Redwall Abbey, and you do not wish to slay innocent beasts?"

Gala spat on the dirt near her enemy's footpaws. "Unlike you, I don't relish killin'."

Mortaza was growing tired of the stoat's ignorance. She placed the tip of her sword under the other creature's chin and forced her to lift her head so their eyes met. The deadly weapon pressed against Gala's throat. "Boldness. That's what I love to see in my soldiers: boldness. Unless you want to be roasted alive on a spit and fed to my army, you will join the Hooded Clan."

"Do what you want," Gala snarled at her, completely unafraid of the weapon pressing against her flesh. "My brother will be more than 'appy t'join yore murderin' army, but you cannot fight yore fate. You will die like the others who failed miserably at conquerin' Redwall."

Mortaza had seen enough. Removing her swordtip from the stoat's neck, she struck her across the face with her wicked claws. Gala fought back the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes as sharp pain tore through her body. She could feel the burning scars forming on her skin, but she would not allow the fisher any satisfaction and bravely swallowed the pain.

"I'm tired of your impudence, stoat. My word is law, and if you disobey you die. You and those foolish Redwallers will learn that lesson the hard way. That Abbey is mine, and your childish view of righteousness cannot stop me. Perhaps being in the front ranks next battle will change your mind. For now though, you can be locked away until you understand how to show respect to those higher than yourself."

Gala forced herself not to struggle as two guards dragged her away, but she let out a parting shot that caused a shiver of fear to run down her enemy's spine. "You cannot break me, fisher, an' you an' yore evil clan are fightin' a war you are destined to lose. Everybeast knows that good will always triumph over evil."

* * *

><p>A guard gently pulled back the tent flap with his speartip and cautiously peeked in. "Lord an' Lady, the stoat captured earlier wishes to speak to ye. Er, the one who isn't locked up."<p>

Kren, who had since returned from his previous fit of rage, waved a paw in the air. "Can't he come back later? Lady Mortaza and I are busy going over some battle plans."

The guard, an obese rat, remained persistent. "'E says it's about the Abbey."

Mortaza caught herself from nearly jumping up in her chair. "Why didn't you say so? Send him in."

Synno sneered at the rat guard and pushed his way through the tent flaps, stopping several feet from the two fishers. They immediately noted his powerful stature and obvious swagger.

"What do they call you, stoat?" Mortaza's voice was deceptively soothing.

"Synno. I 'ear yore tryin' to conquer Redwall Abbey, eh?"

A low growl elicited from Mortaza's throat. "We ask the questions. Do you know anything about that Abbey that may be of importance?"

Synno shook his head, almost as if he were disappointed by her lack of hospitality. "'Tis bad manners to throw out orders afore ye 'ave even offered a poor beast summit to drink or eat."

The fisher flattened her ears in anger. "Start talking, unless you want the last meal you ate to be your last."

But Synno knew he had the upper paw, and he was not about to back down. "Ye want t'know 'ow to really stab those Redwallers in their 'earts? Get me some vittles first."

He pointed to something on the table where Kren was seated. "Methinks that will do."

Mortaza snarled and, grabbing the piece of roasted bird, tossed it to him. "Huh, methinks you don't need any more food in that disgusting belly of yours."

Tearing off a chunk of meat, Synno purposely chewed it slowly and licked his lips in enjoyment. "Delicious. Best meal I've ever 'ad."

Both Kren and Mortaza were quickly losing their patience with the impudent stoat. They exchanged glances and, whipping out their swords, began to circle him menacingly and taunt him.

"Y'know my dear Lady, we haven't had stoat in such a long time. Just the mere thought of it makes my mouth salivate."

"Nothing better than skinning alive an idiot beast who thinks he can outsmart us, don't you agree my love?"

Synno was not stupid; he was outnumbered and knew the two fishers prowling around him were totally serious. They eyed him hungrily, saliva dripping from their snapping jaws. In an instant his demeanour had completely changed from overconfident to absolutely terrified.

Words poured from his mouth like a leaky faucet. "I know a riverdog who lives at the Abbey."

Kren leaned in, his rancid breath washing over the quivering stoat's face. "Tell us his name and who he is."

"Semser, 'is name is Semser. 'E 'as a wife an' daughter, an' 'e wields a sword that's said t'be magic."

He suddenly found himself hanging in mid-air, Kren's muscular paw grasping his neck and slowly choking him. "Magic?"

Finding words and breath proved difficult for Synno as he fought for both. "Some...some mouse used t'own it, but 'e's long dead. They say whomever wields the sword will be forever powerful."

Kren released his hold just in time, sending Synno dropping to the ground like an anvil. The stoat sucked in air greedily as he held his throat, now able to speak more coherently albeit with some coughs in-between. "The Redwallers...they worship this sword an' the mouse who used t'wield it. They also cherish their own kind. Ye capture any woodlander - Redwaller or not - the entire Abbey will be practically beggin' fer yore mercy. You'll 'ave the upper claw."

Mortaza used the tip of her sword to raise his head so they were eye-to-eye. "How do you know this riverdog?"

She had to crank her neck a little in order to get a good view of what Synno was about to reveal. Lifting his tunic, he ran a grimy claw over an old vertical scar on his midriff that ran from the middle of his rib cage to the top of his right hip. "Coward gave me this some seasons back. Since then I've been plannin' my revenge an' dreamin' of killin' 'im slowly an' painfully."

"You'll get your chance soon enough," Mortaza snapped. "For now you need to work on your courage. Not so tough when you're faced with real warriors, are you?"

Synno massaged his throat, hatred for the fishers boiling in his veins. "Jus' let me 'ave my vengeance against that riverdog an' I swear I'll never bother ye agin."

It was good enough for Kren and Mortaza. The latter, who had an immense hatred for the stoat but knew he was valuable to the clan, bared her teeth in satisfaction. "You're a crafty beast, I'll give you that. Prove yourself worthy to me and perhaps I'll let you have your revenge. Go out into Mossflower and find a woodlander. I don't care what species; just bring them back here. A young one is preferable, but if you ever want to see another sunrise again you return here with a prisoner. It's time those idiot Redwallers know how dangerous we can become when they do not obey our orders. Now get out of my sight afore I rip you apart with my claws and feed the scraps to my army."

Outwardly Synno appeared fine, but his heart pounded furiously against his chest at what had just occurred. Scrambling up, he hurriedly left the tent without a single word.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks to **Shi Ern** for her lovely review.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7<span>

With each passing minute, Synno was growing more anxious. He had failed to locate any signs of life in the past hour, and he knew returning to Lady Mortaza empty-pawed was practically inviting death. The afternoon was fading fast, which meant the sun would soon follow. Fear drove the burly stoat onward. He leapt over fallen branches and sloshed his way through various streams, always on the lookout for any movement or noises. But the anxiety would not vanish, and the fox tracker alongside him only worsened his mood.

"Lady Mortaza will 'ave yore 'ead when we gets back t'camp."

Synno glared at him in annoyance. "Who says we're goin' back t'camp? Maybe I'll jus' stay out 'ere an' never return."

The fox laughed at this foolish notion. "Ha! Ye think that'll stop the Lord an' Lady from findin' ye?"

"I thought ye were supposed t'be a tracker. Huh, wot kind o' tracker gits us lost in the forest? Methinks Mortaza will have _yore_ head."

His companion shrugged off the blatant insult. "I'm not the one who 'as t'find some rotten woodlander. I was merely sent t'make sure ye don't try anythin' stupid. Oh, an' it's Lady Mortaza to ye. If'n ye don't call 'er that, well...it ain't pretty."

"Really now?" Synno's voice was thick with sarcasm. "An' pray tell me wot happens if'n I calls her Mortaza."

The fox snickered gleefully and ran a filthy claw along the edge of his axe, which he had kept hidden underneath his green robe. "I gets to watch ye die!"

Synno gave no reply, choosing to focus on his mission rather than listen to some bumbling fox. The two wandered further into Mossflower but still could not find anybeast. Synno felt as if they were traveling in circles, but he held his tongue. He did not like or trust foxes, and this one seemed to be extra sneaky. He was a mangy creature, with matted reddish-rusty fur that had a slight yellow tinge to it. His chin, throat, and chest were white - although it was incredibly difficult to tell since the fur was full of dirt and grime - and he had patches of black fur on the back of his ears. His tail was a long and bushy thing, with a brown-red hue on the top and pale grey on the underside. Nothing about him even remotely impressed Synno. The two vermin pressed onward, hoping to eventually see any signs of life. Theirs depended on it.

* * *

><p>Mortaza was suffering through yet another terrifying nightmare. This time she was standing inside a gigantic and ancient hall, its walls covered with a magnificent tapestry. She instantly recognized the cloth as the same one Clawing had attempted to steal some nights back. The armoured mouse pictured on the tapestry seemed to glare at her, mocking her silently. She studied him for a brief moment. He certainly looked like a fierce warrior, leaning on his sword with vermin fleeing behind him. She moved her gaze up slightly and spotted the real weapon resting on two spikes above the picture. Mortaza's eyes lit up with greed, and she reached out for the sword.<p>

A sudden flash of lightning frightened her, and her paw retreated as she was very briefly blinded. When she regained her sight, she noticed the sword was gone. Mortaza cursed under her breath at the missed opportunity, but the air caught in her throat when the mouse's picture began to move. She blinked once, thinking it was merely an illusion.

It was far from that. Like something out of a book, the mouse came to life. Mortaza knew he was long-dead, but that did not stop him from looking every inch the magnificent warrior that he was. He advanced upon her with large steps, the gleaming two-pawed sword pointed menacingly at her chest and a snarl stamped on his lips.

No matter how hard she tried, Mortaza could not tear her eyes away from his as she was forced backwards. Her heart thundered against her chest so loud she feared he could hear it. She suddenly tripped over her own footpaws and crashed to the ancient stone floor, eyes widened in terror at the mouse warrior who was now practically standing over her.

A single word that sounded more like a choked sob escaped her quivering throat. "Mercy!"

The warrior merely sneered at this feeble attempt. "There is no mercy for those who slaughter innocent creatures."

He raised the sword high above his head, and Mortaza let loose a blood-curdling scream as the blade came crashing down.

* * *

><p>Upon awakening and realizing she was alive, Mortaza put her head in her paws and sighed in frustration. She knew these nightmares would continue to haunt her yet had no idea on how to stop them. First the ottermaid, and now the nameless mouse warrior, who was just as fearless. How much longer before sleep would totally elude her and she would become delusional? Would she be able to continue side-stepping death by mere inches? Was Kren suffering the same thing, and if not than why was she being targeted?<p>

With these questions racing through her brain, the fisher decided to attend to other matters besides sleeping. She could go for a while without rest, but she knew that she would never win that particular battle. Rising from her bed, she cleaned herself up before heading outside to check up on her army's progress and to search for her husband, whom she had not seen in a while.

She eventually found Kren, who was supervising a group of archers at target practice. He was obviously not satisfied by how things were going, as he pulled an arrow that was embedded in the ground and snapped it cleanly in half before throwing it at the archers. "Blundering idiots! How can a task as easy as aiming at a stuffed target be so difficult? Try again, and this time I want to see perfect shots!"

Mortaza appeared beside her husband and smiled contently. "I was going to ask if you were having better luck than me, but I suppose I just received my answer."

Kren snorted irritably. "Morons can't even hit an inanimate object."

His wife placed a gentle paw on his shoulder. "Give it time, love. Have you seen the stoat? I thought he would have returned by now."

"Synno? That moronic lump of a vermin? Idiot probably went off and got himself killed. Good riddance I say."

"Well I say we need him, no matter how much you're right." She ventured off then, leaving Kren to his archers.

* * *

><p>In addition to the already heightened anxiety, Synno was becoming more impatient with his fox companion. Ignoring him hadn't worked, and the so-called tracker seemingly refused to be quiet. Synno worried his constant yammering would scare away any potential captives. He had to physically restrain himself from reaching out and smacking the fox on his head, and it didn't help that he hated him.<p>

Synno's nostrils flared as he picked up an unknown scent. He stopped in his tracks, not bothering to tell his companion who ended up crashing into him.

The fox shook his head and glared at him. "Idiot. Wot do ye think yore doin'?"

"Shut up," Synno hissed venomously. "I smell somethin'."

"Pity, I was lookin' forward to watchin' ye die."

Synno sneered at him in contempt. "Sorry I spoiled it fer ye. Now make yoreself useful an' help me search."

Clearly not amused, the fox crossed his paws defiantly and stayed put. "Who says yore the boss o' me, stoat? I kin do wot I wants, when I wants. An' I don't want to 'elp a snot-nosed fool such as yoreself!"

Synno's rising temper boiled over. He struck the fox hard with his entire body, sending him flying. The fox had no time to recover as Synno grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against a tree trunk, chest heaving with rage.

The impudent fox's face was showered with spittle as Synno snarled viciously, "An' I have no time for yellow-bellied scumbags, especially one who thinks 'e's better than me."

His victim attempted to respond, but the air was quickly vanishing from his lungs. Synno continued to apply more pressure to his throat, eyes blazing cruelly as he watched in amusement at the fox suffocating in his grasp.

Within seconds it was over. Synno released his hold on the dead fox, whose body slid to the ground. A pained grimace was now frozen on his lips. Spitting on the carcass, Synno turned heel and followed the scent, hopeful that it would lead him to a woodlander.

* * *

><p>Inside Redwall Abbey, things were growing more and more tense. Mortaza had not been heard of since the first attack, and the inhabitants were beginning to wonder if she was up to something. While others were going about their daily business as a means of distraction from their current predicament, Abbot Torlay was holding a meeting with some creatures down in Cavern Hole.<p>

A frustrated Semser slammed his clenched paw on the table. "Why can't the scum just show her face?"

Alddon sniffed as he popped a strawberry into his mouth. "Because she's a vermin, mate. Vermin are cowards. But this one is smart. There's jus' one problem: what species is she?"

Everybeast immediately looked at Dasmaros, the Abbey Recorder. He shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "Sorry mates, but I've searched through all the books in the library an' can't find anything. Nothing fits her description."

Emroon gritted her teeth angrily. "It's just like Dakmus all over again."

Patting her mother's paw reassuringly, Culy looked at the Abbot with hopeful eyes. "There has to be a way to stop her, right? She can't continue to attack the Abbey forever."

Torlay sighed and, reaching out, gently touched the young ottermaid's cheek with an ancient paw. "My dear child, you have much to learn about the world. Vermin such as Mortaza will stop at nothing until they get what they want."

Culy felt her cheeks flush red with embarrassment, and she lowered her head. Semser squeezed her paw gently and spoke in a soothing tone. "No need to be ashamed, daughter. You're a young maid an' not accustomed to witnessing such tyranny."

After ensuring she was alright, the Warrior turned his sterling eyes to Torlay. "Father Abbot, I suggest that we take a search party into Mossflower. It's dangerous, but necessary if we want to find out just what Mortaza is up to."

Log-a-Log nodded in agreement. He was the leader of the Guosim - which stood for Guerilla Union of Shrews in Mossflower - tribe, a large group of argumentative but fierce shrews who had been allies of Redwall since its construction. "'Tis a wunnerful thing, the element o' surprise. My band an' I are eager to get back into action, an' wot better way than to ambush the enemy. We strike in the dead o' night, that scumbag Mortaza an' her evil horde won't know wot hit 'em!"

The old hare gazed firmly at the shrew leader. "Unless it's an emergency, I want everybeast to remain within these four walls. We cannot afford to take chances, especially when there is evil in Mossflower. For now, we stay here. Make sure all fighters are ready and weapons sharpened. We must be ready to do battle at a moments notice."

* * *

><p>Taffa was lost. The very young Guosim shrew had been blundering through Mossflower for what had seemed like an eternity after being accidentally separated from his parents and infant sister. Normally anybeast, especially one so young, would have been terrified. But Taffa was not concerned. He was a feisty creature and not one to bow down from adventure.<p>

"Us shrews don't get lost," he said to himself as he walked through thick brush. "No siree, we know these 'ere woods like the back o' our paws. Would be nice if'n I found a logboat though."

His stomach rumbled, and Taffa realized that he had not eaten for a few hours. This didn't worry him though, as shrews - especially Taffa - were resourceful creatures. Besides, Mossflower was full of delicious food. No doubt he'd find something to munch on.

A scent suddenly assaulted his nostrils, and he immediately began to salivate upon spotting a pawful of berries on the ground. _Somebeast must 'ave dropped 'em from their pouch whilst they were walkin'_, he thought to himself. Licking his lips, he skipped over to where the scrumptious-looking fruit lay and reached out to snatch one up.

Without warning a paw shot out and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and he was easily lifted into the air. Although he was unable to see his captor's eyes thanks to a hood covering their face, Taffa instinctively knew they were a vermin.

"Lookit 'ere, a liddle watermouse!" Synno, for it was he, laughed aloud.

Although terrified, Taffa put up a brave front and bared his little but sharp teeth. "I'm a shrew, not a watermouse!"

Synno squeezed his flesh a bit harder, causing Taffa to cry out in pain. "Careful now, young 'un. If'n ye don't be quiet I may make a quick meal out o' ye."

Taffa, however, refused to give up. "When my dad finds out what ye've done, he'll 'ave yore 'ead!"

The stoat suddenly revealed a dagger from his new robe, pressing it up against his prisoner's nose. His tone of voice revealed his none-too-amused demeanour. "Impudence will be the death o' ye, _watermouse_. Ye need to learn 'ow to respect yore elders an' betters."

Without another word he tossed the young shrew into a bag and tied the top just enough so that a bit of air could get through, and Taffa found himself surrounded by near total darkness.

* * *

><p>Evening fell over Mossflower, and the amount of birdsongs slowly began to decrease. Taffa's mother and father, together with his infant sister, came out from the forest fringe, their weary eyes falling upon the majestic Redwall Abbey. Snuggled into her mother's arms, the little shrewbabe gave a squeal of joy.<p>

"Not far now, young 'un," her father said gently. "In a few minutes we'll be safe inside Redwall."

His wife, however, was not as optimistic. "Wot about Taffa? He's probably lost an' wanderin' through Mossflower."

He squeezed her paw lightly and winked. "Try not to worry, m'love. Taffa is a resourceful beast. If'n 'e's lost, 'e'll find 'is way to Redwall. I jus' know it."

After letting the guests in, Abbot Torlay brought them down to Cavern Hole for something to eat. As they ate, the shrews spoke of their lost son.

The old hare sighed sadly. "I am sorry, but we've heard nothing about your son."

"Wot if 'e's captured by those rotten vermin?"

Torlay offered the upset mother a comforting smile. "I'm sure that's not the case. Now, you three look like you need some sleep. Go to the dormitories; you can rest there."

* * *

><p>Huddled in a corner of the cell, Gala tried to surround herself with positive thoughts. It was proving to be a difficult task though, as not much in her environment was worth noting. Her prison was medium-sized and looked out on the camp, close to various tents so she would be well guarded. The female stoat had gone some time without food, and her stomach rumbled in protest. She looked down in disgust at the small jug of water and piece of stale bread crust that lay at her footpaws, and her blood boiled. She had done nothing wrong and now she was rotting in a cell. She knew she was different from other vermin, willing to stand up for what was right instead of following orders and mercilessly slaughtering innocent beasts. Gala was a kind creature; she wanted to live a life of peace and happiness, not be held in some cell like a wrongfully accused prisoner.<p>

She imagined what it would be like to live at Redwall Abbey. Mortaza was determined to conquer the ancient place, but Gala knew she did not stand a chance. The stories of past warlords failing to capture the Abbey were countless, and Mortaza would be no different. Gala was fully aware of the sheer size and numbers Redwall had, and she knew better than to challenge them. Of course there was also the opportunity to help them against this new evil, if she was ever able to escape. She hated Mortaza - and Synno for that matter, despite him being her brother - with a fiery passion. Both were cruel beasts who enjoyed torturing others, and Gala was not like that. If she could escape from this prison she could possibly aid the Redwallers, especially since she knew what Mortaza was planning.

Hoarse shouts brought her back to reality, and she moved closer to the bars to see what was going on. Although his hood concealed his face, she instantly recognized her brother Synno. He was carrying some sort of bag, and there was obviously a creature inside for the material was moving. Mortaza then appeared, and a low snarl emitted from Gala's throat at the sight of her hated enemy.

Grinning proudly, Synno untied the bag and turned it upside down. Taffa plummeted to the ground, small tail between his legs. He was clearly terrified at being surrounded by such evil-looking creatures.

Bending down, Mortaza gave the frightened young shrew a wicked smile. "Do not be afraid, little one. If you cooperate with me, I won't hurt you. Now, what's a poor little babe like yourself doing out in these woods alone? Surely you must have a very worried mother and father looking for you."

Taffa remained silent, though his entire body trembled with fear.

Mortaza shrugged and stood back up. "No matter. We've got ourselves a hostage. Synno, throw this woodlander into the same cell as your foolish sister. Perhaps being in the same vicinity as a vermin for some time will help his change his mind about not speaking."

Gala shuffled back into the corner as Synno approached, but she made sure he knew she was alive. "I see you've become one of them, brother."

Synno spat on the ground near the holding cell. "Aye, too bad you weren't smart enough to make the same decision. Pity you've got to rot in there now; ye would 'ave made a good soldier."

Gala bared her gleaming teeth. "I'd rather die than join that murderin' army."

"Yore choice. Ye look like ye could use a good meal. Jus' try not to eat this 'ere shrew; we need 'im fer hostage negotiations. Huh, those stupid Redwallers will do anythin' to ensure their beloved friends are safe."

A light went off in Gala's mind, but she stayed silent as Synno carelessly tossed the young shrew into the cell. Without a single word to his sister, he locked the door and turned heel.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks to **Auda** and **Evelina888** for their lovely reviews.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 8<span>

As soon as he was thrown into the cell, Taffa instinctively scurried to the farthest corner away from Gala. He glared hatred at the stoat, his entire body still shaking with pure terror. "Ye move a single paw, vermin, an' I'll tear ye apart!"

Gala smiled at the little shrew's ferocity. "Yore bravery sure is admirable, young 'un. But ye 'ave to need t'worry; I won't 'arm ye."

Taffa was not convinced, and he let her know it. "Cowardly scum, all o' ye!"

Gala spoke in a soothing tone in an attempt to comfort the terrified shrew. "Do ye think that only because Synno captured ye?"

Her cellmate nodded furiously but still kept his distance. "Aye, the rascal snatched me up when I was tryin' t'get some vittles. Besides, me dad says all vermin are bad."

The female stoat chuckled quietly. "Not exactly. Ye'll eventually find out that I'm an exception. 'Ere, why don't ye take me food? Ye look 'ungry."

She pushed the jug of water away with her footpaw until it was about halfway between them, knowing he wouldn't come near her. "'Tis not much but 'opefully it'll keep yore stummick 'appy."

Taffa was indeed very hungry; his stomach rumbled in protest at the sight of life-giving water. His mouth was parched, and with extreme caution he inched closer to the jug. When he was within reach his tail shot out and, snaking it around the handle, pulled the jug in close.

Gala held out her paws as he began to greedily drink the water. "Slow down there, young 'un, or ye'll make yoreself retch. Take small gulps."

Taffa heeded her advice, and she spotted him eyeing the stale piece of bread. This she picked up with a paw and gently tossed it to him. "Go ahead. I've already eaten."

"Y'know," the young shrew said as he chewed on the morsel, trust for the stoat beginning to set in. "Yore pretty nice fer a vermin. My name's Taffa."

"I'll take that as a compliment. I'm called Gala."

Her companion scowled at the hardness of the bread and decided to dunk it in the water. "So 'ow did ye get yoreself captured? If'n ye don't mind me askin', o' course."

The kind stoat waved a carefree paw. "A good conversation can pass quite a bit o' time. The one who captured you, that's me brother. Although sometimes I wonder 'ow we're even related. Any'ow, a big raven an' some o' his crew stumbled upon our campsite. Synno decided t'be all big an' brave an' attempt to slay the raven, but I quickly intervened. That wicked bird ordered 'is vermin to apprehend me, an' although I struggled I couldn't escape."

Taffa interrupted abruptly. "Wot about that big mean beast? She looks like she's a wicked 'un."

"Patience, young 'un. I was jus' about t'get to that part. 'Er name's Lady Mortaza, an' yore right: she is a wicked beast. Cruel, greedy, an' determined to conquer Redwall Abbey."

At the mention of Redwall, Taffa's eyes widened and he sat straight up. "That's where me ma an' pa are goin'! Oh, I 'ope they made it there safely!"

"For their sake, they better 'ave. Nobeast wants t'be out in these 'ere parts whilst that evil Mortaza is still alive. Ye sit tight now, young 'un. Afore ye know it, ye'll be back wid yore parents."

Taffa cocked his head quizzically. "'Ow do ye suppose that'll 'appen?"

His newfound friend winked mischievously and tapped the size of her muzzle. "Leave it t'me."

* * *

><p>Above the camp, a female kestrel had witnessed the entire exchange. Due to her smaller size and chestnut plummage, she was virtually invisible amongst the branches and budding leaves of a giant oak tree. Unfurling her brown wings, which were flecked with black spots, she launched herself into the air and headed straight for Redwall Abbey.<p>

* * *

><p>Log a Log stood perched on the Abbey battlemented ramparts, gazing out into the moonlit night. The Guosim leader was twitchy and ready for action; he pawed anxiously at his rapier, eager to know what Mortaza was up to. He was not about to disobey the Abbot's orders, however, and told himself to be patient.<p>

A somewhat blurry shape in the distance caught his attention, and he squinted his eyes to get a better look. He was almost bowled over by a bird, who had come hurtling towards the Abbey at an alarming rate.

The shrew leader immediately knew who the visitor was. "Santalo, wot in the name o' nuts'n'acorns are ye doin'?"

The female kestrel was breathing heavily after such a furious flight, and collapsed on the stone near his footpaws. "Young shrew...prisoner...vermin camp..."

"C'mon ole gel, let's get ye some water. The Abbot will want t'hear this." Log a Log called a nearby guard over, and together the two carried the exhausted bird to the Abbey.

* * *

><p>Down in Cavern Hole, Abbot Torlay studied the newcomer as she drank. She was a beautiful creature, with a brown tail that featured black bars and a narrow yellow ring around her eye. Perhaps most notable, however, were her talons. Black and hooked, they were fearsome weapons and excellent tools for hunting. The old hare was a true fighter, but even he would not want to face such a dangerous predator.<p>

As she drank some refreshing water, Log a Log filled him in as to who she was. "Santalo's an ole friend of the Guosim. Says the vermin 'ave a young prisoner, a shrew. Since she's small an' can escape quickly, she's our spy. Helped us in many a battle too. If'n she likes ye, you've got a friend fer life."

Culy, who was with her parents, asked hesitantly, "An' what if she's not yore friend?"

Log a Log chuckled grimly. "Then ye better run an' pray she doesn't find ye!"

At that moment Santalo opened her eyes, and everybeast present found themselves staring into twin pits that were as dark as a moonless night. The fearsome bird clacked her beak together and nodded at Abbot Torlay, her curious speech intriguing Culy. "Art thou the ruler o' this Abbey?"

Torlay bowed respectfully. "Aye. My name is Abbot Torlay. My friend Log a Log says you were spying on the vermin and noticed they have a prisoner."

The kestrel's feathered head bobbed up and down. "A young male shrew, in the same cell as a female stoat. Although 'tis odd vermin would throw one of thine own into a cell."

Torlay's ears shot up in alarm. "You mean he's locked in the same cell as a vermin?"

Santalo nibbled on a piece of cheese as she answered, "Aye. But yon shrew did not seem afraid o' her. She gave him some vittles, and methinks they were conspiring."

Taffa's father, who, along with his wife was present, suddenly spoke up. "Did ye get any names?"

The kestrel turned her unblinking eyes to the shrew. "Methinks one was called Taffa."

He was nearly in hysterics as he questioned her further. "That's my son! Was he alright? Injured? If'n that vermin lays a single paw on 'im, I'll slay 'em!"

Torlay ordered Mahdis and Emroon to hold the shrew back. Tears sprang from his eyes as he crumbled to the ground and wept openly, his wife comforting him.

Santalo, however, had good news. "Thy son is safe. A rare sight to see, but thine vermin was of the friendly sort."

Log a Log looked pleadingly at the Abbot. "We can't jus' let the poor mite rot away in some scummy vermin cell. With yore permission, Abbot, I'd like to attempt a rescue."

Semser seconded this by thwacking his rudder upon the ancient stone. "'Tis time Mortaza realizes who she's dealin' with."

Torlay nodded in agreement. "Any woodlander in danger is considered an emergency. Skipper, Log a Log, round up your crews and meet us back here. We need to plan this accordingly; any mistake could mean fatalities."

* * *

><p>Gala was in the midst of her own preparations. The crafty stoat had thought of a simple but daring idea to free both herself and Taffa from their filthy prison. She could spot some guards roasting food over a fire whilst others warmed their backs and tails, for it was a rather cool night. Others were drinking seaweed grog and spitting it into the flames. This produced brilliant colours that shot up into the night air, eliciting a laugh from the drunk vermin.<p>

Gala turned to her young cellmate, who was shivering noticeably. "Sit tight young 'un, an' take me cloak. 'Tis not much but it'll keep ye warm fer at least a little while."

Nodding gratefully, Taffa wrapped the article of clothing around his small body. "Wot's the plan Gala?"

The stoat peered out at the campfire, eyes twinkling in the light. "All ye need t'do is jus' stay right behind me, unnerstand? I don't want t'see ye get 'urt."

Taffa wrinkled his snout at her. "Can't I help fight those nasty vermin?"

Gala patted his head affectionately. In the short time they had been cellmates she had found herself becoming quite fond of the feisty little shrew. "There won't be any fightin', young 'un. Mebbe a few unconscious beasts, but that's about it. Now, how's yore wailin' voice?"

"Me ma an' pa say it's loud enough t'wake a hibernatin' bat."

Gala smiled in the moonlight. "Good. Ye think ye can show me jus' 'ow loud?"

The second Taffa unleashed a scream, Gala was forced to cover her ears. Taffa's parents had been right: his wailing was indeed quite loud. "Can't anybeast give this poor creature somethin' to eat? I'm starvin' 'ere!"

His cries quickly reached the campfire, but none of the guards actually made to get up. Gala watched as they repeated her action, groaning as the shrew's voice shook their eardrums.

"Gah, somebeast make that idjit shut up afore me ears burst!"

"My poor ole 'ead!"

Kren and Mortaza burst out from their tent, paws clasped to their ears in an effort to drown out the cries. Above the din the latter yelled, "Half-witted morons! Get up you lazy beasts, afore I beat you with your own weapons!"

Fortunately for the vermin, nobeast heard her. Gala saw the fisher and immediately nudged Taffa. "Keep goin', yore doin' a great job."

The young shrew took another deep breath and, cupping his paws, continued to yell. "Please! We're 'ungry an' need vittles! We're dyin' 'ere!"

Mortaza was none too pleased and started to berate her soldiers. "Get up I said! You, go see what that was about."

The creature she had spoken to, a fat weasel, grumbled as he rose to his footpaws. "Why me? I'm 'ungry an' was jus' about to eat." He found himself back on the ground, only this time doubled over in agony from the savage kick he had just received to the stomach.

Mortaza sneered at him. "Unless you want to see your innards, I suggest you clean the mud out of your ears. My orders were to get up, not complain like a crying infant."

Amidst the continuous yells, she headed back to her tent. The unlucky weasel fell silent as he got up for a second time and waddled over to the cell. The piercing cries were nearly too much for him, and he tapped on the bars with his spearpoint. "Ahoy, enough with the racket already! Yore givin' me a splittin' headache."

Taffa clasped his paws together, pleading with the guard. "Oh please sir, won't ye give us some food?"

The weasel snarled at him irritably. "The only thing I'll be givin' ye is a stab from me spear if'n ye don't shut up!"

As he had approached, Gala noticed a set of keys attached to his belt. She silently thanked the fates and launched into action. The fat weasel didn't even get a chance to blink as Gala grabbed his spear from him and whacked him on the head, rendering him unconscious. He slumped to the ground silently.

Taffa was taken aback by what had just happened, but one glance from Gala told him he was to continue yelling out desperate pleas. As he did so, Gala worked on unlocking the cell. Within minutes she was successful and quietly opened the door, making sure to move slowly so that nobeast would suspect anything was out of the ordinary. As she and Taffa stalked out of the cell, she grabbed the unconscious weasel and gently lay him inside.

"There ye go, mate. All cozy an' snug."

Without another word the two fugitives headed into Mossflower. Not a single vermin had heard or seen them leave.

* * *

><p>Semser peered up at the full moon, knowing its light wouldn't fully reach the forest floor thanks to Mossflower's thick canopy. Still, it was better than a pitch black night. Sheathing the great sword of Martin, he stood alongside his wife and daughter as he addressed the rescue party.<p>

"We've got a bit of a march in front of us, so keep your eyes an' ears open for any suspicious movements. Once we reach the vermin camp we'll unlock the cell in which Taffa is being held. As for his vermin companion, he or she may try an' trick us. Babes as young as Taffa don't realize how dangerous vermin are."

Culy raised a paw. "An' what if this vermin is indeed good? Do we bring them back to the Abbey for interrogation?"

Her father nodded and gripped the ancient two-pawed sword tightly. "Having a hostage who knows the enemy is useful, but with vermin ye can't take any chances. Alright, let's head out. And remember, be on your guard. There's no telling what these scum are up to."

* * *

><p>At the same time the Redwallers were setting out on their search for the young shrew Taffa, the Hooded Clan's camp became a scene of chaos. One of the vermin, a rat who had had a bit too much grog, stumbled over to where the prisoners were being held.<p>

"Ahoy there Rottail! Wot be ye doin' layin' on the job, eh? Lady Mortaza will 'ave yore guts fer garters."

Although he was slightly drunk, the rat could tell Rottail had been knocked unconscious. Turning around so he was facing the camp, he called out in a slurred voice, "Somebeast went an' whacked poor ole Rottail in the 'ead!"

The other vermin heard this and came rushing over. All of them had been swigging back some of the grog, so their sense of perception was unsteady. They all rammed into each other and crashed to the ground, cursing and groaning as they tried to push one another.

Mortaza, having heard the commotion, burst from her tent, eyes blazing. "What in the name of blood and thunder is going on?"

She raced over to the fallen vermin and kicked them savagely. "Lazy worms! Where's that oafish weasel I sent to check on the prisoners?"

The rat who had found Rottail raised a grimy claw. "Beggin' yore pardon, m'Lady, but Rottail seems to be sleepin' in yonder cell."

Mortaza gritted her teeth in anger and peered inside the cell. Sure enough, Rottail was lying motionless on the ground. But she was more focused on what - or more precisely, who - wasn't there.

"The prisoners have escaped!"

* * *

><p>Taffa had a difficult time keeping up with Gala. While he was younger, his small legs couldn't run as fast as her. He was forced to stop and catch his breath. "You go on ahead, mate. I'll catch up later."<p>

But the loyal stoat would hear none of it. "Wot, an' leave ye in Mossflower all by yeself? Not a chance, mate. Climb up on me back; I'll carry ye the rest o' the way."

As she bent down, Taffa had an inquiry. "Where exactly are we goin'?"

The extra weight was no burden for Gala, as her friend was small. His stomach was touching the back of her head, and her paws were clasping his legs so that he wouldn't fall backwards. "Redwall Abbey, o' course. We'll be safe there."

* * *

><p>Landing softly upon the grass, Clawing swiftly made his report. "A large group of Redwallers heads this way, Lady. Riverdogs an' rivermice, a treemouse, the big stripedog, an' two birds."<p>

Mortaza's fertile brain was working feverishly as she devised a plan. "They know of the little shrew. Well, I'm certainly not going to let them reach our camp. Clawing, round up the entire army and make every single beast is prepared for war. I'll make this forest run red with woodlanders' blood before morning!"

* * *

><p>Askhew and Santalo, who, since it was too dangerous to light a torch, had come along for the rescue party due to their ferocity and excellent senses, halted suddenly at the head of the group. Their sharp hearing had picked up a foreign sound.<p>

Semser muttered out of the side of his mouth, "What is it?"

The red-tailed hawk's plummage rose slightly. "A single creature, coming from that direction. You want Santalo an' I to investigate?"

"No, 'tis too dangerous. We don't know if they're friend or foe." He was practically bowled over by a sprinting Gala, who had not seen him until it was too late. Otter and stoat went crashing to the ground with a hard _thud_.

Recovering quickly, Semser jumped back up to his footpaws and greeted the newcomer with a snarl. "I guess this answers my question."

Taffa, who had not sustained any injuries from the fall, came bounding over and placed himself in front of Gala. "No, don't 'urt 'er!"

The stoat gently urged him aside. "Don't worry young 'un. Jus' go with the goodbeasts; I'll be alright."

But Taffa refused to budge. He glared up at the otter warrior with fierce eyes. "She 'elped me escape from the vermin! Please, she's me friend."

Semser lowered the great sword of Martin, although he kept a close watch on the stoat. "You helped him? Why?"

"With all due respect, m'Lord, mayhap right now isn't the best time t'be askin' questions. Take this young shrew an' return to yore Abbey. No doubt Mortaza an' 'er scum will be after ye."

A sinister voice suddenly rang out, surprising the Redwallers. "Too late, me beauty. We're already here."

Culy's eyes widened with horror as her eyes fell upon the Hooded Clan. An icy claw gripped her heart as the terrible realization struck her like a bolt of lightning: they were totally surrounded and outnumbered.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Many thanks to **Auda** for her lovely review. Apologies for the late update; I lost track of time and didn't realize it's been almost a month since the last chapter was posted.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 9<span>

Culy could not tear her eyes away from the fearful sight. All armed to the fang with an assortment of weapons, vermin snarled and hissed at the shocked woodlanders. She wondered how long they had been standing there, watching them. Her neckfur rose when she heard one of them murmer, "Mm, riverdog! I 'aven't had that in seasons!"

The young ottermaid instinctively stayed close to her parents, heart thundering in her chest. Alddon whispered to her father, "We're completely outnumbered. It'd be suicide to fight these vermin."

Semser replied out of the side of his mouth. "We're already in enough trouble, mate. Offer t'go peacefully an' they'll attack, but if'n we run they'll cut us down one by one. Ye know vermin; they love nothin' more than a bloody battle."

A tall hooded creature strode out from the group. Culy recognized them as the beast who had insulted her father that morning on the walltop, and she gave a low growl.

Although Kren had put on a show of bravado earlier at Redwall, in reality he was terrified of the ottermaid. Unable to meet her fierce glare, he motioned to the beast who was standing in front of her. "You there, riverdog. You look like the leader of this party. What business do you have out here?"

Semser, for it was he the fisher was addressing, snarled at him. "Business? Mossflower is not yours an' never will be. It is a free place for peaceful-loving creatures to roam."

His adversary's fur bristled slightly. "You are trespassing on Hooded Clan territory. Give me a better reason as to why you're out here and I might let you live."

The Warrior was not impressed. "Stop playing the fool; you know why we're here. Give us the young shrew an' we'll return to our Abbey."

Kren laughed mockingly. "Sorry, but I'm afraid I can't do that. Your foolishness will cost you and your friends dearly, riverdog."

Without warning he lunged at Semser, but the Warrior was prepared and simultaneously tripped Kren whilst neatly stepping to one side. That single move ignited the battle. Cloaked vermin bullied their way through the ranks, eager to snatch up a piece of the battle. Emroon slew what appeared to be a rat with a throat slash from Martin's sword, and she quickly found herself being forced backwards by two ferrets who were threatening to stab her with their spears. Having lost sight of Kren in the melee, Semser quickly dispatched a foebeast with his javelin and came to his wife's rescue. He leapt in front of her and knocked one vermin out with a mighty whack from his powerful rudder before impaling the other with his javelin. The ferret gave a screech and fell backwards.

Emroon accepted her husband's outreached paw. "Thanks m'love. I thought I was done for."

Semser gave her a swift wink. "Not while I'm still alive."

Husband and wife fought back-to-back, screaming war cries as they wrecked havoc upon the foebeast. All around them the scene was pure chaos. Several shrews and an otter had fallen, but the vermin casualties were far greater. Although the Redwallers had been caught totally off guard by the ambush they fought bravely, knowing they were battling for their very lives. Mahdis was everywhere at once, flinging the vermin high into the night air as he swung to and fro with his massive paws. Many seasons had not hindered the badger's strength, and with teeth bared he threw himself at the enemy. Vermin ran willy-nilly; they did not want to be caught in the path of such power, for it would surely mean death.

Ignoring the blood flowing from several wounds on her body, Gala handed Taffa - whom she had kept hidden from the violence underneath her tunic - to one of the birds who had come with the Redwallers. "Take the little 'un back to the Abbey!"

Santalo, for it was she, glared at the stoat with her unblinking eyes. For a moment Gala thought the bird was going to lash out with her wicked beak, but after a few tense seconds she bowed and gently took the young shrew in her talons.

Taffa opened his mouth to protest, but Gala placed a gentle paw to his lips. "I'll see ye agin soon, friend."

Without a word Santalo was in the air, Taffa securely between her talons. Gala waved to her companion as they disappeared above Mossflower's canopy.

Asnkew, who was standing beside her, gave the stoat a sideways glance. "'Tis unusual for a foebeast to show such tenderness towards a woodlander."

Gala sniffed. "Aye, but I'm not like other foebeasts. So are ye goin' to slay me right 'ere, or are ye goin' to put that beak an' talons o' yores to good use?"

The fierce red-tailed hawk chuckled in amusement and spread his powerful wings, screeching a warning to the vermin. "Kreeeeearrrrr! Prepare for your journey to Hellgates, scum!"

Death was upon the enemy in an instant. Askhew was a blur, his fearsome weapons slaying countless soldiers. Dull thuds could be heard as swords and daggers fell to the ground alongside their wielders. Some of the more brave vermin fired off arrows, but this did not seem to stall the powerful hawk as he tore his way through the ranks. Snarling in frustration, Kren snatched an arrow from the archer standing beside him and threw it at the hawk. Askhew dodged to one side and, with remarkable reflexes, caught the missile in mid-air with his talons as it sailed past him.

Sneering at Kren, he easily snapped the arrow in half and let it fall. "Try again, coward!"

While all this was going on, Gala unleashed her own fury upon the clan. Hatred for Mortaza and all that she stood for boiled the stoat's blood, and she was not about to let the fisher's cronies slaughter more innocent creatures. With a wild scream, she slew a charging rat. She pulled her spear from the body and was about to aim it at another vermin when she spotted a group of them beginning to overpower a squirrel. One of the vermin neatly tripped the woodlander, and he went crashing to the ground. A dagger flashed in the moonlight, and Gala knew that if she did not help the squirrel he would surely perish.

Gritting her teeth in anger, she bolted over and took immediate action. As the wielder was about to stab the squirrel, Gala grabbed his wrist and wrenched it backwards. The unfortunate vermin, a weasel, screamed in agony and dropped the dagger. Without missing a beat, the lithe stoat cracked the skulls of the other vermin with a single powerful whack from her javelin. The weasel whose wrist had been broken tried to snatch up the fallen dagger with his free paw, but the end of Gala's javelin found him first. He died without a sound.

Alddon was beyond shocked, and he stared at his saviour with widened eyes. "You...you saved my life."

It was then that Clawing spotted the stoat. She had insulted him that day at the vole camp, and now he saw the opportune moment to exact revenge. Flapping up into the overhanging trees, he hopped from branch to branch so that she couldn't see him until it was too late. Launching himself off the tree, Clawing extended his wicked talons and prepared to strike at the stoat's unprotected back.

At the last possible second Alddon simultaneously pushed Gala aside and grabbed her spear. The raven's beak was mere inches from his eyes when he whacked him hard on the side of his head. The blow instantly sent Clawing crashing to the ground but surprisingly did not render him unconscious. Gala made to lunge at the raven, but Alddon scurried to his footpaws and held her back.

Gala's eyes burned with raw fury. "Yellow-bellied scum! Jus' try an' fight me one-on-one; then we'll see 'ow tough ye really are!"

Clawing barely heard her. Struggling, he rose to his talons and wobbled for a brief moment. Alddon was not about to slay a defenceless creature, so he jabbed at the air threateningly with his spear as a warning. "Get out o' 'ere, ye mangy pile o' feathers!"

The raven managed to spit out a retort. "This isn't over, stoat. One day I'll slay you and your friend!"

Gala sneered in contempt. "Not if I slay ye first. Now git out o' me sight afore my pal changes his mind about sparin' yore miserable life!"

Clawing flew off, glaring over his shoulder at the two creatures. In reality he was actually terrified of them and watching to make sure the squirrel kept good on his promise. He quickly vanished into the forest canopy.

Knowing they didn't have much time, Gala gratefully shook Alddon's paw. "Thank ye kindly, mate."

The good Friar gave a broad wink. "An eye for an eye."

* * *

><p>Synno too was in the midst of battle. He viciously slashed down any woodlander who tried to attack him, laughing evilly as his sword claimed lives. A Guosim shrew leapt onto his back and started biting at his fur, causing Synno to howl in pain. He reached over his head and, grabbing the shrew by the scruff of his neck, lifted him off. With a sneer, Synno held the shrew out in front of him and impaled him with his sword. Tugging his weapon loose, he tossed the dead creature aside. That's when he saw him: the otter warrior, the one who had given him the scar. The one they called Semser. He was fighting a rat, his back to him. Smiling wickedly, he made his way towards him and, as he inched closer, swung his sword high.<p>

Culy sprang into action. Finishing off a fox, she grabbed Martin's sword from Emroon and reached her father just as Synno was about to slash at his back. Semser, who had successfully slain the rat, turned his head to see Synno standing there with the weapon above his head.

Metal clashed upon metal, and Synno found himself staring into the fiery eyes of a young ottermaid. He instinctively knew she was Semser's daughter, and he laughed wickedly. "So ye need yore pretty liddle daughter to 'elp ye, eh?"

Upon seeing the stoat, Semser's eyes widened in horror. "Culy, get out o' here! Run!"

Synno laughed again. "Culy, that's yore name? Wot a pretty 'un!"

But Culy ignored his plea and continued to lash out. "Leave my father alone, you filthy scum!"

She was strong, but Synno was bigger and more powerful. As she made to swing the ancient blade, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her in. His foul breath made her wince. "Yore mine now!"

Culy struggled in his grasp, but she knew it was pointless. She caught him eyeing Martin's sword and instinctively dropped it right at her footpaws. Before Synno could react, she kicked the weapon to her father.

Semser's warrior spirit rose at the sight of his daughter in grave danger. Picking up the sword, he charged at Synno. But the stoat was prepared and lashed out with his powerful hind legs, catching his enemy hard in the stomach. Semser doubled over in excruciating pain, struggling not to retch.

With lightning speed Synno swung his captive around so she was facing Semser and pressed his sword to her throat. Emroon was now there, hovering over her husband and a dangerous gleam in her chocolate eyes.

Synno ignored her presence and snarled at Semser. "Don't ye try anythin' stupid, riverdog, or I'll slice open 'er gizzard wid this 'ere blade."

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Culy's head. She didn't dare move, eyes silently pleading with her parents. Semser and Emroon knew they could do nothing to help their daughter. The former's eyes blazed with fury at his enemy.

Synno pushed the swordtip a little further into Culy's neck, causing a drop of blood to appear. He was obviously enjoying watching the otter family suffer. "Ye think ye kin defeat me agin, eh Semser?"

Still on his knees, the Warrior gritted his teeth. "Leave 'er out o' this, Synno. This is jus' between us."

His adversary spat on the ground near his footpaws and bared his yellowed teeth. "Short-sighted fool! Ye kin 'ave 'er back when Lady Mortaza is done wid 'er. Although ye kin bet she'll be in liddle pieces by then!"

Semser made to get up, but a hooded figure stepped into his path. The battle came to an abrupt halt as all eyes fell upon Mortaza. She had appeared out of nowhere and was now standing in front of the two otters, eyes boring into their spirits.

She was forced to take a step back when Semser suddenly charged. He was immediately restrained by Emroon, but this did not stop the enraged Warrior from spitting out warnings to his enemy. "Spineless scum! Ye lay a single paw on 'er an' I'll send ye all to Hellgates!"

Mortaza, or none of the vermin for that matter, had never seen such ferocity in any creature. Gala's words echoed in her mind, and she made the wise decision to keep well away from the angered otter.

The Redwallers who had not been injured in the battle assisted Emroon in restraining Semser, who was still attempting to get at the hooded fisher. To make matters worse, he was also hurling insults at her. "Why don't ye take that hood off an' fight me one-on-one? Then we'll see who the real warrior is!"

Alddon hissed at him. "Stow the gab mate, or they'll hurt Culy!"

A dangerous smile crossed Mortaza's lips. "Best listen to the squirrel. You wouldn't want to see anything happen to your beloved daughter, would you? Now slink on back to your precious Abbey and agonize over the fact that you can't save your own kin. You make any more stupid rescue attempts, I skin her alive and feed her to my army."

Semser and Emroon were totally helpless. There was nothing they could do for their daughter, who was now being dragged away in Synno's powerful arms. Any move would mean certain death for them and Culy. As she was vanishing from their sight, Semser called out to her. "Be strong, daughter! I swear on Martin's sword we'll rescue you."

Culy was about to reply when her captor's paw clamped over her mouth, preventing her from speaking. Her eyes never left her parents until she disappeared into the black night.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Once again, thank you to **Auda** for her review.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 10<span>

Dawn broke over Mossflower's canopy as Semser and Emroon were cruelly forced to abandon their daughter. Ignoring the slain vermin bodies strewn everywhere - evidence of the Redwallers' determination - they began their solemn journey back to the Abbey. They had emerged victorious in the battle thanks to no fatalities, although there were several injuries that required medical attention, but nobeast felt like they had won. Emroon led the group, the sword of Martin buckled about her middle. Tears of sorrow threatened to spill from her reddened eyes, and she stole a brief glance at her husband. He was faring no better, rudder stirring up dust as he dragged it on the earth. His normally cheerful eyes were clouded with a mixture of hatred and guilt. Hatred for Synno kidnapping his daughter, guilt for not being able to save her in time. Like Emroon, she was his entire world. If anything happened to his child, he doubted he would even be able to continue living.

He sensed she was watching him and squeezed her paw, which he was holding, gently. Smiling weakly, she said nothing and returned the simple but loving gesture. Both their hearts lifted briefly upon seeing their beloved Abbey.

* * *

><p>A grunt escaped Culy's throat as she was slammed against the tree trunk. Her warrior spirit rising, she struggled even though a claw was gripping her neck. Vermin totally ignored her as they tended to their numerous injuries, cursing her fellow Redwallers for the damage they had inflicted.<p>

Mortaza, for it was she holding the young ottermaid, spoke in a mocking tone. "Where are your friends now, riverdog? Sulking back to their precious walls?"

Though Culy was terrified, she put up a brave front. "They'll come for me."

"You're probably right, which is why I'm going to make the first move."

Culy's mind raced furiously, and she could not stop herself from blurting out words. "You can't defeat us. Redwall Abbey has stood for generations, and it will continue to long after your bones are bleached by the sun."

She turned her head to one side as Mortaza leaned in close, the fisher's rancid breath washing over her. "Is that so? Pity you won't be around to see your Abbey crumble. You won't be a hostage for long, although methinks you'll want to be after the special plans I've got planned for you."

Culy surprised even herself at her boldness. "Do whatever you want. Slay me if you have to, but remember this: you will die long before you take a single step inside Redwall."

The fisher struggled to contain the rage that was boiling inside her. With the back of a paw, she struck Culy hard on the side of her head and watched joyfully as she crumbled to the ground, unconscious. "And you will suffer a slow and painful death before your idiotic parents and their friends can save you! Synno, take this stupid beast and throw her in the cell. We're finished here."

* * *

><p>Emroon could no longer hold back her emotions. The moment she walked through the Abbey gates she collapsed from a combination of exhaustion and anguish. Though he was tired himself and feeling the stress of losing his daughter, Semser picked his wife up in his arms and took her to the gatehouse, where he gently lay her on their bed. She remained there for several minutes, totally motionless except for her chest slowly rising and falling with each breath.<p>

After what seemed like an eternity, she opened her eyes. Semser was right there as always, and she immediately buried her face in his tunic, gripping the material with clenched paws.

Semser whispered soothing words in hopes of calming her. "We did our best to save her."

Emroon sniffed and looked up at him through blurred vision, knowing the answer to the question she was about to ask. "They won't kill her, right? Please say they won't hurt her."

"There's no way of knowing with those scum. But they won't do anything until they have Redwall in their filthy claws. No vermin leader would give up a hostage, not for something as valuable and sought-after as the Abbey."

The ottermaid blinked, allowing more trees to flow freely down her cheeks. "She'll be brave; I just know she will. She's a fighter."

Guilt still flooded Semser's veins, but now he could feel determination taking over his spirit. His words were like a hammer striking an anvil. "I swore on Martin's sword that I'd rescue her, and I intend to fulfill my promise. I'll bring her back, Emroon. I'll bring her back to Redwall and us. You have my word as a warrior on that!"

* * *

><p>For the time being, Gala was kept in the Infirmary under the very watchful eye of Mahdis Camberk. The female stoat did not seem to mind her second confinement and instead gazed around at the various herbs and plants that ordained the room, curiosity getting the better of her.<p>

Though none too pleased at the idea of a vermin in his Infirmary - let alone the Abbey - Mahdis allowed her to investigate. She wasn't doing any harm to nobeast, and even if she attempted an escape he could easily overpower her. Despite his attitude, the big badger had to admit that she seemed to have a kinder heart than most vermin. He could not help but inquire about this.

Gala chuckled good-naturedly. "I've been asked that question a lot recently."

Mahdis shrugged. "It's not everyday we have a vermin as our guest. Usually they're either robbin' innocent families or plottin' to conquer the Abbey."

She bowed respectfully, knowing the awesome power he possessed. "I kin assure ye, sir, I'm not like that. Suppose that's why I've been an outcast all me life."

"I must say, that was some bravery you showed earlier. Alddon told me you saved his life."

Gala sniffed a herb, pulled a face, and put it back. "Alddon, eh? Well 'e rescued me as well."

Before their conversation could continue, the Infirmary doors burst open and, with blazing eyes, Semser appeared. Abbot Torlay, Emroon, and Alddon were right behind him, but none could move quickly enough as he stormed over to where Gala was standing. Grabbing her by the neck, he roughly slammed her against a wall. The stoat nearly lost her breath, but she didn't fight back as she knew he was angered at what had happened to his daughter.

"Unless you want a death wish," Semser roared in her face, causing spittle to fly everywhere. "You better start talkin'! What 'ave they done with Culy an' 'ow can I get 'er back?"

Mahdis pulled the enraged otter off of Gala, who was now massaging her throat. "Easy, warrior. I kin tell ye all ye need t'know about Mortaza an' the Hooded Clan."

Semser struggled in the badger's mighty hold and pointed an accusing paw at Gala. "You may 'ave rescued the shrew, but you're still a vermin. Vermin 'ave no place in our Abbey!"

Alddon interrupted abruptly. "She saved me life too. If'n it wasn't fer 'er, I'd be buried in the ground right now."

Gala attempted to reason with the otter Warrior. "I know yore upset about yore daughter, an' I promise I'll do everythin' I can ter 'elp ye. I 'ave me own reasons fer wantin' that scummy fisher an' 'er evil army dead. Let me explain everythin'."

* * *

><p>The first thing that came to Culy's mind when she regained consciousness was her aching skull. She was lying on what felt like an itchy blanket, and despite the sun seeping in her surroundings appeared quite dull. The young ottermaid very slowly sat up and clamped a paw to her head. There was a small bump near her right ear, and she gingerly touched it. Pain immediately shot through her skull, and she moaned softly. She opened her eyes and, after allowing them to adjust to the light, took in her current predicament.<p>

It quickly became clear that she was in a small stone cell with rusted iron bars. There was room, albeit not a lot, to move around and stand up. She ran a webbed paw along the smooth wall and realized that it was made from the same stone as the Abbey. At some point vermin - probably the Hooded Clan - must have built it using sandstones from the quarry the first Redwallers had mined to construct the Abbey. The walls were cold and damp, and other than Culy the only things in the cell were the blanket and a small flask. Taking it in her paws, she turned it over in hopes of finding any remaining water. A few pitiful droplets were all that remained, and she tossed it to one side before crawling to the bars and peering out. The vermin camp was right there, soldiers still investigating their wounds and searching for plants and other items to make poultices. They either totally ignored her or, if they happened to walk past the cell, snap their jaws. The tunes of new birdsongs and a fresh spring smell in the air were a stark contrast to her forbidding surroundings.

Knowing there was really not much she could do, the young ottermaid rested her back against the sandstone wall and closed her eyes. She imagined she was back in her beloved Abbey, with not a care in the world as she sang and danced with her friends around the pond. She could see her smiling parents, their paws clasped together, proudly watching over her.

From somewhere far away came a soothing voice. "Do not give up hope, for it is near."

* * *

><p>No matter what others thought of Gala, the good Friar Alddon was determined to make her feel welcome. After all, she had rescued him from certain death. It was also obvious that the stoat had not eaten for quite some time, and after asking permission from Abbot Torlay the friendly squirrel prepared his new friend - and all the Redwallers since they had not yet eaten - a hearty breakfast. The mouth-watering scents eventually began to rise in the kitchen and slowly fill Cavern Hole.<p>

Gala licked her lips in anticipation as the wondrous aromas assaulted her nostrils, completely ignoring the glances and whispers from the curious, albeit startled, woodlanders. "Mm, I 'aven't smelled anythin' so delicious in all me seasons!"

Abbot Torlay slid both paws inside his wide habit sleeves. "Come with me when you have filled your plate. We will discuss matters where it is not so busy."

* * *

><p>Gala carefully munched on a hot blueberry scone as she peered up at the magnificent tapestry in Great Hall. She made a mental note to ask about the picture of the armoured mouse and turned her gaze to Semser, who, along with others, had joined Abbot Torlay for the important meeting.<p>

Swallowing the scrumptious food, Gala looked squarely at Semser and Emroon. "Mortaza won't do anythin' to yore daughter until she's enslaved all o' ye. That slimy beast wouldn't dare give up a valuable hostage."

Semser's brow furrowed; he already knew this. "Tell us about this Mortaza. What kind o' creature is she, how many soldiers does she command, an' what are 'er weaknesses?"

The stoat spoke slowly and deliberately. "She an' her husband, Kren, they're fishers. 'Eard they're originally from the Northlands but decided to come south to rob an' murder. Not like they did enough o' that up north, eh? As fer 'er weaknesses, she 'as a temper. That's about all I kin think of."

Abbot Torlay uttered the strange word. "Fishers?"

Gala nodded and took a swig of some lemon water from a flask. "Aye, fishers. Normally they're solitary, but these two are different. Known to eat carrion an' beasts larger than themselves. They may not be the biggest vermin, but Kren an' Mortaza are merciless. Swift, wid icicle-sharp claws an' teeth that'll tear ye apart widdin seconds."

The old hare glanced at his friends for a brief moment before returning his gaze to Gala. "Well, at least now we know what species we're dealing with. Tell us, why do they and their army wear hooded cloaks? Is it due to some sort of superstition?"

"Camouflage. Green so they blend in wid the forest, hoods so ye can't make out their faces. The 'orde is made up o' assorted vermin, but Kren an' Mortaza are the only two fishers. She's reportedly the more evil o' the pair. Locked me up simply because I refused to join 'er army. That's when I met Taffa. Er, where is the liddle 'un any'ow?"

Torlay's reply made her worry swiftly vanish. "He's safe with his parents an' sister. Anything else you wish to tell us?"

Gala shook her head. "If'n I think o' anythin' else, I'll let ye know."

The old hare, who had felt a sense of trust with the stoat, glanced at his friends. "Then I think we're done here. Gala, when you're finished please meet me back in Cavern Hole so I can show you your resting quarters."

As the group dispersed, Gala remembered about the tapestry and tapped Emroon lightly on the shoulder. "Sorry to bother ye agin, but I've got a question about yon mouse."

Emroon whispered something to Semser and let go of his paw. He was clearly not happy at leaving his wife with a vermin, but said nothing and left.

After everybeast had disappeared, Emroon turned to face Gala. "You have an inquiry?"

She pointed to the tapestry, transfixed by the sword and picture below it. "Me ole mother used t'tell me about that mouse, although she never knew 'is name. She was a gennelbeast like meself, y'see."

Emroon nodded at this confession. "You are certainly unlike any other vermin I've encountered."

Gala sighed pensively. "'Tis hard, though, bein' good when everybeast expects ye ter enjoy robbin' an' murderin'. Sometimes I wish I 'ad been born a woodlander, then I could 'ave lived in this nice Abbey."

"In all the seasons Redwall has stood, it's never had a vermin living here. Visiting, yes, but never residing permanently. Perhaps that will change now that you're here. By the way, that mouse is Martin the Warrior. He's Redwall co-founder and the saviour of Mossflower."

"Sure is a brave-lookin' mouse. If'n 'e were still alive I'd 'ate to cross paths wid 'im in a dark forest."

Emroon chuckled softly. "Methinks he'd like you. You're a good creature, Gala. I'm sorry my husband doesn't quite see that yet."

The stoat bowed respectfully. "I kin unnerstand 'ow 'e feels. I suppose I would act the same way if'n I came across a beast I don't trust. But I am sorry for the loss o' yore daughter. Ye will see 'er agin, I promise ye that."

Emroon suddenly looked very old, and her shoulders drooped sullenly. "I hope you're right."

* * *

><p>As it is with small communities, word spreads like wildfire. Sometimes it can be good, but usually - especially when it comes to vermin armies and their leaders - it means certain death. Such was the case at the camp of the Hooded Clan.<p>

Mortaza's spy, Clawing, had exceptional hearing. The clever raven would pretend to rest in a nearby tree, while in reality he was listening to the vermins' rumblings. At times it was about food or weapons, but today it was about Kren and Mortaza's leadership. Or more precisely, the lack thereof.

A weasel spat irritably into the fire. "I tells ye mates, those two fishers are gonna git us killed wot wid their pathetic attempts at takin' over that Abbey. They can't even slay a group o' woodlanders. They've 'ad plenty o' chances to kill that otter wid the shiny sword, an' each time they come crawlin' back t'camp. Huh, some leaders!"

A nearby fox guard, leaning casually on his spear, nodded in agreement. "Aye, an' those Redwallers aren't as simple as they thought. I reckon they've got a whole bunch o' warriors in there. Who's t'say they won't slay us?"

His companion, a lithe rat, shook his head. "Nah, the two idjits will kill us afore we kin even set paw inside the Red Abbey. They're greedy an' think of nobeast but themselves."

Now feeling even more confident, the weasel spoke in a hushed tone. "Don't say anythin' ter anybeast, mates. We gots ter plan this accordingly. Jus' act normal fer now."

Angling his wings, Clawing swooped down from the tree and landed quietly on the ground behind the large tent, a short distance from where the three would-be mutineers were conspiring. He clacked his beak and waited.

Mortaza's beautiful head appeared from between the two flaps. "It better be good news. I don't like it when others bother me whilst I'm busy."

The wicked raven tapped his beak knowingly with a talon. "Do not worry, my Lady. This is something that may interest you...and save your life."

* * *

><p>Sunlight illuminated the dangerous glint in Mortaza's eyes as she strode out into the middle of the camp. Every vermin fell silent, knowing something terrible was about to occur. They all recognized the look in her eyes and what it meant.<p>

She stopped in front of the three vermin who were sitting at the fire and spread her paws wide, addressing the entire army. "It saddens me that my soldiers do not have faith in my command, nor that of my husband. If we didn't lead you, every single creature here would be long-dead by now. Saying that, I have no room in my horde for traitors and turncoats. There is only one place those type of creatures can go."

Without warning she whipped out her sword and whirled around upon the three hapless vermin. "Hellgates!"

As she spoke, she swung the blade. Her first victim, the weasel, still had a surprised grimace frozen on his lips as his severed head plopped to the ground. His fox companion had no time to react as the sword sliced into his midriff like a knife through butter. A gasp of complete horror arose from the onlookers as they watched their fellow vermin being split into two halves. Blood sprayed the nearest witnesses and dripped from Mortaza's lethal blade.

Teeth bared, she turned upon her final victim. The rat was on his knees, paws clasped in an attempt to plead with her. "Please yore Majesty, spare me! I wasn't doin' nothin', I swear!"

His cries fell upon deaf eyes. Mortaza was a cold-blooded killer, and with a vicious snarl stamped on her features she swung the sword for a third and fourth time. The rat didn't even get a chance to stare at his severed paws before the lethal blade cut through his neck. He toppled over, detached head rolling around on the grass.

Seething with rage, the fisher spat on the grisly carcasses. "Tell them Mortaza sent you!"

She turned to face her dumbstruck army. Although all of them had seen and committed murder at some point in their lives, their stomachs twisted at the sight of their slain comrades. Even the most hardened vermin had to tear their gaze away during the killings, but now all eyes were on Mortaza as she whirled upon them.

Her eyes blazed furiously as she hissed at the shocked army, "Anybeast else wish to take a stand?"

Not a single creature dared to move, for they feared it would be inviting death. Mortaza gestured at the grisly scene with her bloody sword. "This is what happens when fools attempt to defy me. Mutiny has no place amongst my army. Consider this your first and only warning: if any of you mudbrains even _think _about challenging me, I'll rip out your heart and devour it."

Cleaning her blade on the rat's carcass, she barked out clear orders. "Up on your slimy paws, all of you. I'll show you idiots how a real warrior fights with their paws and not their mouth. Clawing, gather some dry wood and branches. Synno, bring me the prisoner."

* * *

><p>Culy was rudely awakened by the sound of somebeast banging on the bars with their weapon, and she opened her eyes. Synno's barbaric features greeted her. "Rise an' shine, riverdog! Lady Mortaza wants a word wid ye."<p>

The young ottermaid gave a painful grunt as he lifted her up by the scruff of her neck. Synno laughed, clearly enjoying her distress. "Am I hurtin' the poor maid? Terribly sorry."

She held back a wince as her skin was stretched and pierced by his claws, but she did manage to bare her sharp teeth at him. "When I escape from here you better hope you're far away from Mossflower, because if not my father will hunt you down and slay you."

Synno sneered wickedly, and his next words sent a shiver of fear down Culy's spine. "We'll see 'ow brave ye really are when yore tied to a burnin' stake!"


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Many apologies for the extremely late update. I meant to post this earlier, but to be totally honest I just didn't have the energy. Due to that and various other factors I have decided to end this story. There will be at least one more chapter and most likely one after that, but that will be it. I thank those who read this story as well as "Rising From the Ashes."

All mistakes are mine.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 11<span>

As time passed it became increasingly clear to the Redwallers that Gala was on their side. None had ever seen a peaceful vermin before, though there had been accounts of such an occurrence in seasons past. The Dibbuns were especially fond of the good-natured stoat, who didn't seem bothered by them climbing all over her. But despite her cheery appearance, Gala was anxious. Not all of them were still convinced she was a goodbeast. It was a challenge as she knew there was a stigma attached to vermin. Not that she blamed the Redwallers; since the beginning vermin had always been a threat to their way of life. She had heard stories of armies slaughtering entire villages and enslaving innocent creatures, leaving behind a trail of fiery destruction. When she was younger her mother would often tell her tales of warlords attempting to conquer Salamandastron, the ancient mountain that was home to the Badger Lord or Lady and the fabled Long Patrol army. Redwall Abbey was often on the list as well, though none had ever succeeded in totally conquering it.

Gazing at her surroundings, Gala dearly hoped it would stay that way.

* * *

><p>Without bothering to check if there were any sentries on the Abbey walltop, Synno dragged a struggling Culy out into the flatlands in front of the gates. The young ottermaid was strong, but she could not escape the stoat's vice-like grip. Mortaza walked alongside her, a slight breeze ruffling the flowing purple cape that was fastened to her neck by a squirrel skull.<p>

Sheer hatred rose in Culy's eyes, and she didn't once take her glare off Mortaza. What she said next were her words but not her voice. "My friends will rescue me, but you will die as you have lived. You cannot escape your fate, fisher!"

The chill that ran through Mortaza's spine was unexplainable, but it was gone in an instant. She kicked the captive brutally and sneered in contempt. "Shut up. Synno, you know what to do."

* * *

><p>Holding paws, Semser and Emroon made their way to the Abbey walltop. Both otters were exhausted from a combination of lack of sleep and worry for their kidnapped daughter. They had almost reached their destination when Dasmaros smacked right into them, causing the mouse Recorder to fall backwards. His friends helped him up, but one look at his face told them something was happening.<p>

"Alert the Abbot! The vermin are back, an' Culy is out there!"

He bolted off down the stairs, and Semser and Emroon rushed to the battlements. What their eyes fell upon nearly had them in hysterics: Culy was bound tight to a stake, which was driven into the ground. Her chest, neck, and all four paws were tied, and heaps of dried twigs and ferns were scattered all around her. A filthy gag was secured tightly around her mouth, rendering her mute. Fear was etched in her widened eyes, which stared back at her parents in a silent plea to rescue her. Mortaza and Kren stood on either side of her, both holding a lit torch and carrying evil smiles.

Semser glared at the pair, struggling to conceal the rage in his voice. "Come to finally reveal yourselves, cowards?"

Mortaza chuckled wickedly and motioned to Culy. "Brave words for a riverdog whose daughter is about to burn alive. Of course, there is one way you can save her."

"An' what, pray, would that be?"

Abbot Torlay, for it was he who posed the question, now appeared on the walltop alongside Semser and Emroon. Behind him, Mahdis towered over everybeast.

"Complete surrender, old longears."

Although he was well into his old seasons, Torlay still had keen vision. He swiftly assessed the situation before speaking again. "Even if we do, how are we to know you won't hurt the maid?"

While he was bargaining with the fishers, down on the Abbey grounds preparations were taking place. There was little time, and the Redwallers knew it. Skipper and his crew quickly gathered up all the available weapons, squirrel archers tightened their bowstrings, and the Guosim shrews ensured their rapiers were sharp and at the ready. Regardless of their small statures, the shrews were renowned warriors and experts in the art of war.

Despite the Abbot's best efforts, both Kren and Mortaza were growing increasingly impatient. The latter pointed her sword at Torlay and sneered. "I admire your attempts, old one, but you have wasted our time for far too long. You refuse to surrender and would rather watch one of your own perish? So be it. But just in case you're planning to retaliate..."

Her voice trailed off, and Kren gave the signal. Several vermin rushed up to their position, each carrying numerous spears and arrows in both paws. Semser watched in horror as they stabbed the missiles into the ground all around Culy. In a matter of seconds, the young ottermaid was totally surrounded by the weapons that were jutting out from the ground. Unless they were sliced down by another blade, there was no way anybeast could reach Culy.

Abbot Torlay had seen enough. Turning his head, he called out to the creatures down below. "Redwallers, attack!"

The words had barely left his mouth when Emroon witnessed the next horrifying event. Simultaneously the two fishers lowered their torches. The dry kindle immediately ignited, sending sparks flames devoured the twigs and ferns, and total fear gripped Culy's heart. She struggled, but the rope that bound her to the stake didn't budge. Within minutes she would be burned alive.

Redwall Abbey's front gates burst open despite their massive size, and woodlanders flooded the open land. At the same time, Kren and Mortaza ordered their army to charge. Both sides instantly met and engaged in a ferocious battle. Skipper and Log a Log held the front, throwing themselves into the melee and trying to get to Culy.

The young ottermaid was totally defenceless against the fire that was now licking at her footpaws. Thickening smoke stung her eyes, and she coughed violently as it slithered its way into her mouth and down her throat. Her vision became blurry, and as she struggled to see a large creature suddenly appeared in front of her.

It was Synno. The stoat, angered that he hadn't gotten the chance to slay her, chopped some of the spears and arrows in half and lumbered towards the maid. Blood oozed from a wound on his left arm, but this did not seem to deter him. Ridding himself of a spear that was right in front of her, Synno snarled as he raised his sword above his head with his uninjured arm, completely ignoring the raging fire. "Get to Hellgates, riverdog!"

Before he could land the death blow, somebeast tackled him from the side. A _whoosh _sound could be heard as the air rapidly escaped from Synno's lungs. As the attacker stood up, Culy recognized her as the stoat from the previous battle.

Gala kept her eyes on Synno as she yelled over the din of battle. "Now!"

Culy watched in relief as Semser and Emroon appeared from behind the smoke, each carrying a full bucket of water. The fire seemed to hiss angrily as it was quickly extinguished, and Emroon's familiar voice echoed in her ear. "We've got you."

Semser cut the ropes that bound Culy to the stake, and within seconds she was free. In the midst of a full-scale war the family found a few moments to reunite. Semser and Emroon hugged their daughter fiercely, tears of joy streaming down all three faces.

The joyful site was interrupted by an enraged Synno. Upon seeing his mortal enemy, blood filled his eyes and he scampered up from off the ground. Grabbing his sword, he bared his teeth at Semser. "Yore not gittin' away this time!"

The Warrior gently pushed his wife and daughter away and unsheathed Martin's sword. "Gala, take them back inside the Abbey where it's safe!"

Culy immediately began to protest. "But Dad, I want to help!"

Semser's oceanic eyes never once strayed from those of Synno. "I said go!"

Gala didn't hesitate. She could tell by the look on Semser's face that he meant every word, and she wasn't about to argue with the Abbey Warrior. "C'mon ye two, let's do wot 'e says. We need t'get ye cleaned up, young maid."

As they were whisked away, Culy continued to stare at her father and whispered softly, "I'll come back, just like you an' Mom did. I promise."

* * *

><p>"Pity ye sent them away. I was 'opin' to kill yore daughter in front o' yore very eyes."<p>

The great sword of Martin caught the sunlight at just the right angle, making it shine like a newborn fire. "Pity you won't get to live much longer."

Synno simply laughed in his opponent's face. "Ye failed the first time; wot makes ye think ye can finish the job?"

"Determination to rid Mossflower of you and all the other vermin here. Of course I'll be sure not to make the same mistake."

Foam sprayed from the stoat's mouth as he hissed viciously. "Fool! I am Synno, warrior of the Hooded Clan!"

His adversary was not the least bit impressed. "An' I am Semser the Warrior. If you do not wish to challenge me, lay down your sword an' I'll spare your miserable life. Although a mud-sucking coward like yourself doesn't deserve such a gift!"

Stung by the insult, Synno charged without warning. Semser sidestepped his enemy and smacked him on his injured arm with Martin's sword. The stoat yelled out as fresh pain shot through the limb, and he stumbled to the ground.

Semser sneered in contempt. "Get up you scum!"

Synno's clenched right paw shot out, releaing the dirt he had been holding. Semser was forced backwards, clawing madly at his eyes in an attempt to rid himself of the irritating particles. Through blurred vision he saw Synno charge, sword above his head. The Warrior instinctively whirled around and lashed out with his powerful rudder, catching the stoat hard across his face and making him drop his sword. Stars danced in Synno's mind, and he stood there wobbling for a brief moment.

He regained his senses rather quickly despite the heavy blow, but although Synno was large he was no match for the mighty Warrior of Redwall. With both blades locked and whiskers touching, Synno realized that he was in serious trouble. His fur glistening with sweat, the stoat pleaded with his opponent. "Mercy!"

But there was none to be seen in Semser's face as he knocked Synno's sword to one side with his footpaw. "You ask for this when only moments before you tried to slay an innocent creature who was totally defenseless? Cowards such as yourself are shown no mercy."

He pushed the tip of Martin's sword enough into the stoat's chest to pierce his heart. Synno died instantly, and he slid silently to the ground. Without a single word Semser wiped the tip of the blade on some grass before returning to battle.

* * *

><p>Upon returning to the Abbey, Emroon requested that Culy receive immediate medical attention to ensure she was uninjured. The stubborn young maid, however, wanted to join in the battle that was raging just outside the gates. But Emroon would not hear of it, and so she assisted in bringing her daughter to the Infirmary where one of the helpers could quickly check her over, for Mahdis was currently occupied dealing fatal blows to the foebeasts.<p>

In addition to aiding her husband in the kitchen, Ganlel was also an assistant in the Infirmary. She had much knowledge of the healing arts, though thankfully she didn't need to use any of them on Culy. Miraculously the young ottermaid was fine and received no serious wounds or smoke inhalation during her terrifying ordeal.

Ganlel did have one suggestion, though she knew Culy wouldn't approve of it. "It would be wise to stay inside until the battle is finished."

Her assumption was correct, as Culy made to get up but was held down by her mother. Although Emroon's voice was gentle, there was a hint of firmness to it. "Ganlel is right. You've just been through a traumatic experience; it's wise to rest instead of rushing into battle."

"But I promised Dad I'd return! He swore he'd save me, an' you both kept that promise. Please, let me help him."

Emroon studied her daughter. It felt like she had been born yesterday, a tiny brown bundle wrapped comfortably in their arms. Now here she was, a young maid who was still many seasons from adulthood but already possessed a brave heart. A voice in her head told her to let her daughter go. The otter warrior smiled softly and stepped aside. "Alright. But be careful."

* * *

><p>Outside on the flatlands surrounding the Abbey, the battle was reaching its climax. Bodies from both sides were strewn everywhere, although the Hooded Clan had once again suffered more losses than the woodlanders. No matter what the vermin threw against them, it seemed like nothing could stop the Redwallers. If that wasn't bad enough, the enemy had to deal with the two birds hovering over them. Askhew and Santalo were like missiles with talons; they were everywhere, slicing down vermin left and right and depleting their numbers. Mortaza called for her archers, but it didn't seem to make any difference as the birds nimbly dodged the airborne weapons.<p>

Then Culy arrived.

With blood-filled eyes she tore through the ranks, cutting down any vermin who dared to get in her way. Raw fury boiled in her veins, and despite her smaller statue she bullied over the enemy. Mortaza took one glance at the enraged maid and fled deeper into the ranks in an attempt to hide herself from the ottermaid who haunted her dreams. Before on the walltop she didn't appear so threatening, but this time was different. This time she was armed with a dirk and hungry for vengeance.

However, Culy was not tracking Mortaza. She had seen the fisher disappear, but her eyes were focused on Kren. Nothing and nobeast could stop her; she was plagued with the dreaded Bloodwrath.

Kren did not see the ottermaid until it was too late. He was too absorbed in what he was about to do: slay Dasmaros, whom he had trapped beneath his footpaws. He raised his sword above his head and was about to bring it down when he suddenly froze. His mouth opened, but there was no scream. The battling vermin halted and looked at Kren, who was staring dumbfounded at the dirk that was jutting out from his chest. He glanced up at the ottermaid, who stood mere feet from him. Without a word he fell backwards, slain, and Culy tugged free her mother's dirk from his carcass.

That single move ended the battle. Upon seeing one of their leaders slain, the Hooded Clan turned tail and fled straight back into Mossflower. The Redwallers set up a rousing cheer, but Skipper silenced them with a stern glare. "Stow the noise mates! We ain't won nothin' yet."

Mortaza, who had witnessed the killing, could not tear her eyes away from the sight of her dead husband. Enraged with grief, she grabbed two random vermin who were running past her and roared at them to retrieve Kren's body. The weasels hastily obeyed, working together to carry the heavy carcass back into the woodlands. Despite all the emotions running through her head, she knew she was a sitting target without the rest of her army. Pulling the hood tight around her face, the fisher slinked into Mossflower.

As soon as she had vanished, Culy collapsed from sheer exhaustion.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Apologies for not updating sooner. There will be an epilogue following this chapter, and then the story is finished. Thanks to Auda for reviewing.

All mistakes are mine.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 12<span>

Two vermin struggled to carry Kren's limp body back to the camp. Upon Mortaza's orders, they had retrieved her husband from the battlefield so she could give him a proper burial. Both vermin were very uneasy, as their leader was walking alongside them. She was in an unpredictable mood, her eyes filled with a combination of rage and grief at the realization that her beloved husband was dead. Her chest heaved with each breath, and saliva dribbled from her clenched jaws.

Kren's carcass was gently laid on the ground in their tent, Mortaza ordering that nobeast bothered her unless they wanted a swift death. Her already unstable mind balanced perilously on the brink of insanity, and her pupils became dangerous slits as she stared at the body. The once regal green cloak was now stained with crimson blood, and his sightless eyes seemed to stare right at her. For the first time in her life, sadness enveloped Mortaza's heart; she had lost the one creature she truly loved. Kren did not deserve such a cruel death.

Sorrow was temporarily combined with exhaustion as the latter struck her like a great tidal wave approaching the shore, and she figured the best thing to do was rest. Draping a blanket over Kren's body, she plopped herself onto the large bed that occupied the tent and closed her eyes. Darkness immediately engulfed her, and she fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

><p>She was standing near the edge of a cliff, the afternoon sun warming her fur. If she looked straight ahead, she could see practically all of Mossflower unravelling before her, its thick canopy sheltering the earth below from most elements. She was confused as to why she was here, but even she had to admit it was a peaceful view.<p>

Some sixth sense told her there was another presence in the vicinity. Thinking it was Kren, she turned around to greet him. The smile that had lingered on her lips swiftly faded as her eyes fell upon the creature and she realized it was not her beloved husband.

Her lip curled scornfully as she stared at her hated foe. "You!"

It was the stoatmaid, the one called Gala. She was not armed, but her eyes blazed with immeasurable fury. "Foolish beast. You should have heeded my warning."

Briefly forgetting her overwhelming grief, Mortaza snarled and spat on the ground near the stoat's footpaws. "And I should have killed you when I had the chance!"

"There is no escaping fate, fisher. You will soon join all the past warlords who have failed miserably at conquering Redwall at the entrance of Hellgates."

Before Mortaza could respond in any manner, the stoat's image faded and another creature took her place. This time it was the mouse warrior, armed with a brilliant sword that shone like fire on ice. His steel glare showed no mercy, and Mortaza's heart began pounding in her chest. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. Although the unnamed mouse was not moving from his position, it appeared as if he was getting larger with each passing second.

She instinctively took a step backward and caught air. With nothing to grab onto for support, Mortaza fell backwards. She opened her mouth to scream, but no noise issued forward as she tumbled further and further into a black abyss.

* * *

><p>The fisher's eyes tore open, and she sat bolt upright in her bed. The nightmare she had just experienced was even more terrifyingly realistic than the last, and she knew it would only get worse. For whatever reason, these creatures who continuously haunted her dreams did not want her to sleep. She could understand the stoat and ottermaid attempting to plant fear into her brain, but why the warrior mouse? He was a part of Redwall, but in what way? Something inside her snapped like a twig, and she suddenly decided to take matters into her own paws.<p>

* * *

><p>A hesitant Clawing waddled his way into the tent, intelligent brain attempting to figure out an explanation as to why he had been called in. He bowed his head in respect as he approached Mortaza. "You asked for me, Lady?"<p>

Silence followed this inquiry, and Clawing chanced a look at the fisher. She looked normal enough for a beast who had just suffered a devastating loss, but the raven knew better. One swift glance at her eyes told him all he needed to know: her sanity had finally snapped. He mentally told himself to watch his tongue.

She turned her steel gaze on him, as if just noticing his presence. "Are you loyal to me, Clawing?"

The raven kept his head bowed as he replied, "To the death, my Lady."

"Good." A mad smile crept across her lips, and one of her eyes twitched. "Very good. Excellent, in fact."

Clawing did not know what to say to this, so he remained silent.

A few tense moments passed before Mortaza spoke again. "My beloved Kren has been murdered by that brat, the one who continuously haunts my dreams. If you really are loyal to me, you'll do what I'm about to ask of you."

"Anything, your Majesty."

Without warning he found himself off the ground. Normally this would bother the raven, but this time he was not flying. Mortaza had a clenched paw around his neck, her sharp claws digging into his skin and threatening to slice open his gizzard. She thrust him close to her, rancid breath washing over his face. Clawing forced himself not to wince.

"Tonight you will fly into the Abbey. Break a window, open a locked door, I don't care. Just get in there and steal that sword, the one that big riverdog wields."

Clawing struggled for oxygen, and his eyes began to roll back in their sockets. Mortaza dropped him unceremoniously and shrugged, changing the subject as if totally forgetting she had nearly suffocated the raven. "Oh I know what my army is saying about me. They think I'm weak now that Kren is dead, that I should just leave Mossflower. Ha! I won't leave until Redwall Abbey and this forest is under my command. Those puny woodlanders will be begging for me to slay them on the spot, but I'll ensure their suffering is long and painful after what they did to my Kren. That will show my army that I am still powerful, still in control. Maybe I ought to throw a few of my guards in the slave line. How's that sound to you, Clawing?"

The bemused raven, who had now almost fully recovered from his frightening ordeal, held a wing to his throat as he replied, "A wonderful idea, your Majesty."

"Yes, I think so too. That was an intelligent answer. Had you given me a different one, your head would be on the ground beside your writhing body."

The already-dangerous situation had quickly escalated, and Clawing knew he had to flee from this insane beast. Fertile brain racing feverishly, he simply bowed and made to head outside. "If you'll excuse me, Majesty, I should be leaving now to retrieve that sword." He was about to add that he wouldn't fail her this time, but thought better of it due to her unpredictable mood and fell silent.

Her reply was one of pure terror. "Good, because if you don't I'll pluck your feathers...one by one."

* * *

><p>It was a quiet night, and almost all the Redwallers were slumbering in the dormitories. Gala, however, was too restless to even consider sleep. She knew Mortaza was planning something, but what? The stoat was currently sitting in the Kitchen, staring at a half-eaten scone on the large work table that she had not touched for several minutes. An archway stood in front of her, marking the entry point between her location and Great Hall.<p>

A strange noise caused her ears to flick, and she listened carefully. It sounded similar to metal scraping against metal. Gala did not think much about it then, instead choosing to ponder Mortaza's next move.

Upon closing her eyes, the image of a mouse warrior stole across her mind. She immediately recognized him as Martin the Warrior, but something was terribly wrong: he was not carrying his famous sword, and he held out his paws pleadingly.

The vision only lasted a second, but Gala knew what Martin was trying to tell her.

Somebeast was stealing his sword.

* * *

><p>Clawing cursed under his breath. The sword was no light thing and he was having a difficult time balancing it in his talons, which were hooked onto the hilt. He had just gotten the weapon off the two silver spikes when he heard something. The raven had enough time to turn halfway before Gala was upon him.<p>

"How dare you!"

The sword made a clattering noise as it fell from Clawing's talons and struck the ancient stone floor. He cawed in pain as Gala's sharp teeth tore out a clump of chest feathers, and he instinctively lashed out with his lethal beak. Gala jerked backwards in a successful attempt to dodge the built-in weapon before biting down on his outstretched wing. Bones snapping echoed through the Hall, and the raven's wing fell limp. Redwallers who had been awoken by the scuffle, watched in horror from the spiral staircase at the end of the room as Gala sunk her teeth into her adversary's throat and, with a sickening twist, broke his neck. A moan registered through the tired inhabitants, and Clawing slid lifeless to the floor.

Gala did not even attempt to face them, for she was afraid the sight of her blood-soaked mouth would frighten them even further. Wiping off the sticky liquid with her tunic, she retrieved Martin's fallen sword and put it back on the twin spikes above his picture. "There ye go, right back where it belongs."

* * *

><p>Abbot Torlay ordered that the raven's body be disposed of outside Redwall, as he did not want an evil creature buried in his Abbey. Semser and Emroon took care of this, carrying the grisly carcass out from the main gates and to the nearby ditch. With Emroon keeping watch, her husband dug a shallow unmarked grave for the dead raven. He was nearly finished the task when Emroon tapped her rudder ever so softly on the earth, catching his attention. Semser climbed out from the ditch and saw why she had alerted him.<p>

A clearly insane Mortaza was standing there brazenly on the path at Mossflower's fringe, decked out in full battle armour. She remained totally still, wicked eyes staring at the two otters as if guessing on their next move.

Semser bravely placed himself in front of his wife and glared at the fisher, desperately hoping that somebeast in the Abbey would somehow hear him. "We do not wish for a confrontation."

Mortaza still didn't move as she replied, "I have no need to exchange meaningless words with you, riverdog. You and your wife have no part in this. The only one I wish to speak with is your daughter, murderer of my beloved husband."

"Alert the Abbot. I'll cover ye." Semser whispered softly to Emroon, who nodded silently and kissed his cheek. They moved as one, inching towards the front gate with Mortaza's gaze following their every move. Oddly enough, she made no attempt to stop them.

When Emroon was safely inside, Semser focused his attention back on the fisher. "So, ye want to kill my daughter because she slew yore husband? I would think she did us all a favour."

Mortaza sneered in contempt. "You are either deaf or stupid. I do not wish to speak with the likes of you."

Semser continued as if he had not heard this insult. "Pity she didn't finish the job an' kill ye too. Then Mossflower would be rid of yore wickedness."

Her nostrils flared with anger, which was exactly what he wanted to accomplish. "Shut up or die. It's your choice."

But despite being totally defenceless and unarmed, Semser would not stop. He was hoping that her temper would boil over and she would fight him instead of Culy. "Suppose I'll take the latter option. Although I'm confused as to how ye can fight without yore army to defend ye. Last time we did battle ye fled into Mossflower with yore tail 'twixt yore legs like a scared babe. Yore more cowardly than I initially thought."

Mortaza's left eye twitched, and without warning she unsheathed her sword and charged at the otter. Semser was prepared, and he stood his ground firmly. A perilous glint flickered in his oceanic eyes, and not a single trace of fear was etched on his features.

His adversary grew closer, spittle flying in all directions as she screeched with rage at his blatant impudence. He merely stood there, refusing to move as if he were unafraid of death. This angered her even more, and she increased her speed.

The sword was high above her head, and she brought it down with punishing force.

_CLANNNNNNGGGGGG!_

Metal crashed upon metal as Mortaza staggered back, her paws reverberating from the sudden contact. She still had a firm grip on her sword, but she found herself being forced back by a fully armoured ottermaid. The fisher instantly recognized her as the one called Culy. At the last possible second she had stepped in front of Semser, bearing a fearsome sword that was now inching closer to her nose.

Culy's eyes blazed with pure hatred. "You wished for me, now I am here!"

With immense power, the young ottermaid pushed Mortaza back even further and the two were temporarily released from their close fighting quarters. The fisher, chest heaving, glared at her sworn enemy. "At least you're not daft like your father. So, you're the maid they call Culy? You are responsible for the murder of my husband Kren."

Her adversary was clearly unimpressed. "You are responsible for the murder of innocent creatures. Looks like we're even now."

Semser, who was still on the path, ran up to where his daughter was standing. "Culy, let me deal with her!"

The stubborn young maid quickly glanced at him. "No Dad, I have to do this myself."

A purely sinister grin spread over Mortaza's lips. "Yes, just as I had hoped for. Go on Daddy, let your daughter fight me. It will give me great pleasure to let you watch her die."

"You want to fight, fisher?" Semser now tried to bargain with Mortaza in a desperate plea to save his daughter. "Leave my daughter out of this and we shall duel."

"Father!" The increase of volume in Culy's voice frightened even Semser. "I must do this. It is my destiny."

Semser opened his mouth to protest yet again, but a strange internal voice made him catch his own. He nodded silently and placed a gentle kiss on Culy's cheek before retreating back inside the Abbey, where he immediately found and comforted a distraught Emroon.

Mortaza seized her opportunity. Swift as a flash, she swung her large sword at the unsuspecting ottermaid. Had she not raised Martin's shield to protect her exposed head, Culy would have certainly been decapitated. The sheer sound of Mortaza's blade striking the shield rang in Culy's mind and was enough to briefly eliminate her hearing. She still had her sight though, and used that to deflect the swings coming from her opponent. Angry that she had missed her chance at slaying the ottermaid, Mortaza increased her assault in an attempt to tire her out. But no matter what she did, Culy turned away the attacks with one swipe of her ancient sword. The fisher had never fought a tough opposition before; usually they were tied up or knew nothing about swordfighting. For the first time in her life, Mortaza found herself bested by another creature.

She faltered for a split second. Culy lashed out with her powerful rudder, catching the fisher on the side of her jaw and sending her backwards. Stars danced in Mortaza's vision, and she groaned in pain from the wicked blow. Now Culy launched her assault, continuously battering away at her enemy with Martin's sword but always striking armour. Their noses were almost touching, and Culy began to taunt the fisher. "Not so easy when your opponent is fighting back, is it?"

Mortaza screamed as the edge of the sword found and raked her flesh. Fresh blood oozed from the wound, and she crashed to the ground as she tripped over her own footpaws.

Culy did not let up her assault. "Up, scum! Get up and face me!"

Mortaza was exhausted but surprised that her enemy allowed her to rise. She was barely on her paws when Culy began hacking away again, the ottermaid's red eyes blazing with raw fury as she yelled in the fisher's face. "No longer will you terrorize Mossflower and murder innocent ones!"

Although she was larger and more powerful, Mortaza knew she did not stand a chance. In a desperate move she lunged forward, bared teeth missing Culy's throat by mere inches. The young ottermaid retaliated by throwing a swift uppercut to her opponent's already sore jaw. Mortaza staggered back, and without the slightest hesitation Culy swung Martin's sword.

From their vantage point atop the battlements, every Redwaller gave a moan as the head of Mortaza the Wicked fell to the ground alongside her body. Culy stared at the carcass, the young ottermaid's heaving chest slowly calming and perspiration dripping from both temples. She fell into a kneeling position, wincing at the pain from the cuts Mortaza had inflicted upon her.

"Culy!"

The young ottermaid felt two pairs of familiar arms wrap around her sore body, and she looked up into the eyes of her parents. Semser and Emroon were both sobbing as they embraced their daughter, holding her tightly.

After several moments, the otter family retreated back into the safety of Redwall Abbey.


End file.
